Equilibrium
by Ambrosia Rush
Summary: A lot of money is missing from Diosa. Quinn's daughter, Indiana, is a mathematician with the skill set to find it. Her arrival in Charming sets off a chain reaction that no one could have foreseen. Multiple ships. Post season 5.
1. Morning

**Welcome back! I know, I know, it's been a while. I've missed you, my darling readers :)**

**For those new to the series, this is the fifth. If you'd like to read them in order, start with Milk & Cookies and progress through: The Man With The Smiley Face Tattoo, Years Gone By. Fourth Time Lucky was most recently written, but happens pre-series and can be read at any point. **

**The other stories in this series focused for the most part on one coupling at a time. (Happy/ Indiana, or Quinn/Tink) Equilibrium will be more of the style I have with my NCIS:LA stories, as I will be balancing a huge arrangement of canon and original characters and relationships. To be in line with the TOS of FF, I'll be editing the last chapter of Years Gone By. You'll be able to find the full version of it (and the full version of Equilibrium) on my account over at AO3 (archive of our own) My username is AmbrosiaRush. **

**As always, feel free to message me, I'm chatty. I love reviews and I love constructive criticism, don't worry about offending me- you'd have a hard time managing the feat. **

**Please bear with the slow updates at first. I've just moved and I'm still unpacking! Life is a little crazy, and I have that wedding to plan. I need to be doing invitations soon, but this is so much less stressful! **

**Back to the point, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Equilibrium, I'm just getting warmed up! :)**

::

The early morning sunlight came through the big, slightly open windows of the bedroom and warmed Indiana's face. The sunshine, gentle breeze that blew the gauzy white curtains and the warmth of the body behind her made her want to just curl up and stay there all day. She wouldn't, there were things to do.

Indiana rolled over and threw her arm over the body she laid next to. In no way could it be mistaken with that of her 'Old Man.'

The body had a softness, curves. Skin held the signature scent of black currant and bergamot, familiar and feminine. The dark hair lacked its usual refined style and instead stuck up in all directions. Dark blue eyes opened and a sigh escaped pouty lips. "Why must you wake up so early?"

"Habit," Indiana responded softly not wanting to break the calm moment with loud words.

A sleepy smile formed. "Our boys get home today," Emily said as she rolled onto her back. She stretched her legs out, toes pointed to the end of the bed.

Indiana smiled just a little as she sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. The Nomad charter of the Sons of Anarchy had recently been technically disbanded. There were a few Nomads left who had yet to patch elsewhere. Her father being one of them, and their respective lovers another two. Indiana rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked and a second later Indiana felt the warmth of her friend behind her, sharply angled chin resting on her shoulder.

The two women had been best friends since they met in the seventh grade. Emily's family had moved to Red Willow when her father had received a promotion that brought him to a nearby city. Emily's mother had insisted on a more rural upbringing for their only daughter thinking that it would keep her out of all the dangers of the city. Ironically, Emily ended up with a member of an outlaw motorcycle club.

Fingers poked into Indiana's side over her blue cotton sleep t-shirt and shorts. "Indie?" Emily knew all of Indiana's secrets, not that Indiana hadn't tried to keep them. Alcohol might as well be truth serum and they were roommates during their time at the University of South Dakota, a peak time for parties.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Indiana replied standing and stretching out up onto her tiptoes, her arms over her head. She tried to blow her bangs from her large blue eyes but it was rather ineffective. "I'm taking the shower."

"But you'll take all the hot water," Emily complained as she flopped back down on her back.

"Yeah, but you aren't even going to get your ass out of bed until I put the coffee on."

Emily smiled a little. "Am I that predictable?"

Indiana laughed as she left the room.

::

Sanctuary served its purpose. The bar and motel kept a steady stream of legitimate income flowing. Nomads were welcome, night or day, they all knew where the keys were hidden if they wanted to get into the dorm rooms and crash.

Constructed of brick, the bar stood predominantly in the center. Two wings with fresh cream coloured siding came off the bar structure to form the motel rooms, four to the right, and four to the left. The door to the bar featured a large reaper knocker, proclaiming that it fell under the protection of the Sons of Anarchy.

The bar featured prominently in Indiana's life. She loved the place as much as she hated it.

She had played there as a child. Done her homework there as a teenager. Worked there before she went off to University. There were so many memories. Ones she adored. Ones she despised. Some, like Sanctuary, she both loved and hated in equal measure.

"What are you thinking about?" Emily asked as they sat on the hood of Indiana's four year old light green Prius that was parked neatly behind Tink's black Lincoln Navigator. Indiana chose to take her carbon footprint into consideration when car shopping- that and the vehicle embarrassed her badass father to no end.

Indiana stared at Sanctuary, at the reaper on the door. Today, it seemed ominous. She turned to look at Emily's open expression. Indiana knew she could tell her friend absolutely anything and that Emily would understand. "I have a University degree and I'm back to waiting tables and bartending at my father's bar," Indiana sighed. "I'm working the same job I had since before it was legal that I had one, much less one in a _bar_."

"I have a University degree," Emily retorted. "I'm doing the same job you are."

"But you _chose_ it," Indiana stressed running a hand through her long blonde hair. "You had options. You chose to come back for Angus."

Emily smiled and looked at the princess cut rock on her left ring finger. "Can you blame me?" Emily asked in a blissful voice.

"Of course not!" Indiana replied. Emily and Angus were great together and she was genuinely happy for her friends.

Emily had grown her hair out since her teenage years, the longer it grew the more her natural curl took over. The dark locks cascaded over her shoulders, her bangs were wispy and came over to one side. Her curves had filled out and she looked very much like a professional, successful adult in her choice of black skinny jeans, little dark brown booties and a white button up shirt that was tucked in.

In such clothes, Indiana felt uncomfortable. She had on a pair of boot cut dark blue jeans, black flats with gold embellishments on the toe, a plain white t-shirt and a black blazer. Emily insisted she looked good. Indiana knew her current choice of clothing was simply a mask.

"You could still get a job in your field," Emily insisted.

Indiana didn't dignify the statement with a response. Especially since she could hear the familiar roar of approaching motorcycles. She gathered herself and slid off the hood of the car.

Emily smiled excitedly as she stood beside Indiana and hip-checked her. "Come on, smile!" She shook her friend by the shoulders. "They're back!"

Indiana did smile and it grew when she saw the first motorcycle. She put her career worries at the back of her mind. The five men who'd been on the run parked as the girls came over. While Emily went immediately to Angus, Indiana went to her father and kissed him on the cheek. "Welcome home, Dad."

"Hey, sweetheart," Quinn responded taking off his helmet and hanging it on the handlebar. "Where's Tink?"

Indiana pointed at the bar. "I think she's waiting for you." She then walked around and found herself swept up off her feet. She laughed and wrapped her arms around her 'Old Man.'

"Hey Indie," he said huskily in her ear. "I've missed you."

She kissed him square on the mouth and smiled. "Missed you too, Mac."

::

Happy woke with a croweater tangled around him. Tall, blonde, sexy as hell, exactly his type and not at all what he wanted first thing in the morning.

"Hey," he shook her by the shoulder and the woman opened her eyes- grey. "Get out."

She obeyed in a punctual manner, getting out of bed, pulling on her dress from the night before, grabbing her heels and walking out of the room, shutting the door behind herself.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He'd been drinking with most of the other Redwood Original boys. The events of the past few weeks had shaken the club to its core. Clay had been arrested, so had Tara. Something had happened with Tig. Juice never seemed settled, more jumpy than usual. Internal drama threatened to pull apart brothers, destroy the club. Happy could see it all happening but couldn't figure out what to do about it. It was times like this when he missed being a Nomad. Going to whatever charter needed him, or whichever he happened to be around while riding and not being involved in the internal politics and dramas of a charter. That or he'd be at Sanctuary.

He did his best not to think about _that place_, or the sexy as hell, tall, blonde that he would find there.

The sunlight streaming through the blinds didn't help his aching head. He got out of bed and quickly shut them.

He showered a little slower than usual as the warm water helped the headache and eased the tension in his back. He got dressed and wiped the fog off the mirror. He got half-way through brushing his teeth when his cell started ringing on the bedside table. He walked over, grabbed it and checked the number. He took the phone back to the bathroom and spat in the sink before answering. "Yeah?"

_"Yeah? That's how you answer the phone, Happy Manu-"_

"Ma!" Happy cut his mother off as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. It was too early for this shit.

_"I raised you better than that!" _

"Sorry," Happy replied. If anyone could make him feel like a complete asshole, it was his mother. God knew that Carina Lowman deserved a better son than he. Despite the hangover, he tried to maintain calm and rational speech. He didn't like mornings, the hangover didn't help any.

_"It's been two weeks since I've heard from you_," Carina said. _"I worry."_

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Sorry," he said as soft as his voice ever got. Of all people, his mother didn't deserve the shit he put her through. Especially not since she was sick, breast cancer, mostly she was holding her own but the chemotherapy was rough. And expensive. He worked hard to pay for the physical care she needed but he often neglected the more emotional side of it all. "How are you?"

_"I'm fine,"_ she responded.

He worried him that she lied about how bad she felt. She always tried to protect him. She had been fighting cancer for a full year before he found out. She didn't want him to worry. He'd been furious she'd kept such a thing from him.

_"How are you?"_ she asked.

He hated small talk, but put up with it for his mother. "Fine." He could practically hear her tapping her foot, waiting for him to say something more. "Club is busy with... stuff."

_"Have you found yourself a nice woman_?"

Happy's grip on the toothbrush tightened. No matter what, his mother never failed to ask him that question. She happened to be the one person in the world whom he would put up with it for. "Ma. Don't."

_"I take that as a no. If you don't find someone special, how am I to have grandbabies?" _

He couldn't resist, "I don't need to find someone special to dish out a kid."

_"Happy Manuel Lowman!" _

Rare laughter escaped him, he shook his head. "Ma, what you want and what I want are clearly two different things."

_"Then what is it you want?"_

He hated when she asked such questions. She never understood his priorities. "I have what I need. I have the club, I have family, my bike is in working order-"

_"But you need a woman!"_

"Fuck," he whispered.

_"I heard that!" _

He grimaced at the shrill anger over the line. Cancer or not, the woman had ears like a fucking bat.

_"What about that lovely girl you brought over here?" _

One time. One goddamn time he brought Indiana with him and he still hadn't heard the end of it. Naturally his mother had loved her. Everyone did. She was just that kind of person. Infectious smile, sympathetic ear, warm heart, warm body, smooth ski-

He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. "She's..." In all honesty, he had no idea how to end the sentence.

Long story short, he drank one too many, dragged Indiana Quinn, daughter of friend and Nomad President Rane Quinn, to one of the dorm rooms inside of Sanctuary and nailed her against the wall. Immediately after, he realized it had been a bad decision. He'd left, patched Tacoma and he supposed she returned back to University. He'd later patch Nomad for a short while but never return to Sanctuary, then patch Redwood Original when his mother got ill, it was where he'd been patched for close to five years.

In his last memory of Indiana she had tears in her beautiful big blue eyes, the rejection and pain had been his fault. It had to be nearly seven years since then.

_"I bet that girl grew up nice." _

He sighed. He didn't want to defend his life choices, and he certainly didn't wish to discuss Indiana. He found it best to lock the memories of her away. Nothing good came from dwelling on the past. "Ma. I have to go."

_"Alright,"_ Carina replied, but she sounded distant, sad. _"You be safe now."_

"Yeah. Bye."

_"I love you." _

He shut his eyes. "Love you too, now bye." He flipped the phone shut and threw it out on the bed where it tumbled right off and hit the floor. "Fuck," he muttered.

::

**Thanks for reading :)**


	2. Problem

**Thanks again to everyone who took the time to review the first chapter. The story starts off a little slow with set up, but don't worry you'll have the train-wreck that is Happy/Indie soon enough ;)**

::

Tink looked around the bar. The walls needed a fresh coat of paint, and the current dark brown happened to be too gloomy for Tink's personal tastes. The tables didn't quite match since they'd been purchased at different times. Some broke under normal wear, more had the extra push of a bar fight. The chairs were odds and ends, many of them having been broken over the years. Flea markets and garage sales were good places to find replacements on the cheap. Neither Quinn nor Tink found any reason to spruce up the biker bar to something fancy or classy that would alienate their clientele.

A few locals sat chatting over beer. It used to be that on a Friday night you couldn't walk a foot in the place without bumping into a member of the Sons of Anarchy but with the Nomads disbanded, Sanctuary was quiet.

Harry had patched in New York. Cricket went to Oregon. Dax chose to return to Tacoma where he had patched in many years earlier, although he still ended up at Sanctuary often. Herbert ended up on disability after a particularly horrific crash two years earlier. He ended up having to have his hip replaced, walked with a crutch and would never be able to ride again.

Frankie Diamonds, Go-Go and Greg the Peg had all patched Redwood Original, and tarnished the name of the Nomads.

Most of the other guys were rarities at Sanctuary, and Tink didn't remember where they all patched. Frankly, she didn't care. Her eyes went to Quinn. Him, she cared about, she wondered where he would patch, if he'd patch elsewhere. He turned and smiled at her, her heart still fluttered as it had the first time. She smiled back.

"Need three shots of Tequila," Emily said coming over and placing her tray on the bar. "Slow night."

Tink nodded and grabbed the Tequila bottle and some shot glasses. She poured the first one and then her eyes found Indiana chatting with a couple of the locals. They laughed and she smiled. Tink sighed. "She's been different since she got back."

Emily didn't turn, she knew exactly whom Tink referred. "I thought she'd get back into the swing of things…"

"Been back a year," Tink replied quietly, pouring the second shot. "She isn't settling. She's getting antsy."

"She spent years of her life getting her masters in mathematics and she's waiting tables at her father's bar, she's frustrated."

Tink watched as Mac came over to Indiana and put her arm over her shoulders. Indiana sent a smile his way, kissed his cheek and then returned to work. Tink poured the third shot and set them all on Emily's tray. "How are they doing?"

"They?" Emily turned to see Indiana and Mac in close proximity. "Been together three years." Delivery lacked emotion. Emily knew all of Indiana's secrets. Including the ones about Mac.

"Sometimes she looks happy," Tink said. She had spent twenty seven years worrying over Indiana, right from the day she'd brought the silent child into the world. It had scared her senseless, the minutes in the ambulance where she couldn't get the newborn's airway cleared. While Tink and Indiana didn't share any biological connection, they were still mother and daughter in every way that counted. "Occasionally there are spans of days where she seems to be okay," Tink paused for a moment and sighed, "and then she isn't."

"This life isn't easy," Emily replied.

"No, but it has to be worth it," Tink said resolutely. "I wonder for her, if it is."

Emily pressed her lips together, not wanting to give Tink anything. She gave an uncommitted shrug of her shoulders. "I need to get these to the table." Emily loaded the tray onto her hand and left the bar.

Tink frowned as she watched Indiana move around the bar without the pep of her youth. All a mother ever wanted was for her children to be happy and Indiana didn't look happy.

::

"Go home, girls," Tink said shooing Indiana and Emily away from the bar she stood behind.

"You sure?" Indiana asked resting her tray on the bar.

"Of course I'm sure," Tink replied. "It's two am, only another hour till closing and there are only a handful of locals left, I can deal with them just fine on my own."

"You won't hear me arguing," Emily said shooting a sidelong glance at Angus. "See you ladies tomorrow."

"G'night Em," Indiana replied as she watched her friend walk right into the awaiting arms of Angus. She turned back to Tink. "Are you-"

"Yes I'm sure," Tink said exasperated. "Go home, Indie."

Indiana walked around the bar and untied the apron around her waist. She pulled out the crumpled one dollar bills and handful of quarters that she'd gotten in tips over the course of the night and tossed it into her black studded purse, a gift from Tink. "I'll see you tomorrow," she kissed her step-mother on the cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too, hon."

Indiana waved to her father across the bar since he sat deep in conversation with someone. He gave her a wave back and she pushed open the big door to Sanctuary, the large reaper knocker clanked as it slammed shut. The breeze caused her to shiver and fold her arms over her chest as she walked out into the parking lot. The white bulbs that spelt out Sanctuary above the bar cast a faint glow but the burning end of a cigarette helped her find Mac who sat at the picnic table.

"Tink let me off early," she said as she approached. "You ready to go home?"

"Yeah," Mac replied blowing out a stream of smoke. "You wanna ride with me?"

She shook her head. "I have my car here, I might need it in the morning. I'll meet you at the house, okay?"

"Yeah," he replied tossing the cigarette down and smothering it with his boot.

::

Indiana and Mac rented a small house in a low income neighbourhood. It suited the two just fine as neither spent much time in it. The gravel driveway crunched under the wheels of Indiana's Prius. She stayed behind the wheel for a moment, her hands resting at ten and two, her forehead at twelve. Her eyes were tired and her feet ached. All she really just wanted a warm bath and to crawl under the blankets.

The rumble of Mac's motorcycle told her that wouldn't be happening. She pulled her keys from the ignition and stepped out of the car. She hit the door shut with her hips and leaned against the car as Mac turned his Dyna around so he could get out easily in the morning.

She smiled at Mac's dishevelled strawberry blonde short curls, he smiled back at her. He walked a few steps behind her as they walked up to the door. She unlocked the door and just managed to hang her purse up before Mac came up behind her and planted slow, sweet kisses along her neck.

"Come on," he enticed. "Let's go to bed."

He took her hand in his and led her down the hallway. His lips found hers, his fingers warm against the back of her neck. She pushed his kutte off once they were in the bedroom and she threw it onto the bed. He pushed off her blazer and pulled her shirt over her head. Indiana nipped Mac's lower lip and pulled back so she could pull his dark blue t-shirt over his head.

Exhausted, her eyes kept dropping shut. "Can't we do this tomorrow?" she asked softly.

He groaned. "Really, Indie? I just get back an-"

"Forget I asked then," she snapped back moodily.

"Indi-"

She shushed him and then silenced him completely by pressing her lips against his. Her lips then trailed little kisses along the stubble on his jaw, down his neck and she continued the kisses south, her eyes flicking up to Mac who had a grin on his face.

"Good girl," he murmured running his hand gently through her hair and she suddenly felt sick. She shut her eyes focussed on the here and now.

She breathed in through her nose and kissed once more, another breath and she calmed. He still smelt like his preferred shower gel and cologne, she would know it as she bought it. As she unbuttoned his jeans the clean earthy sent of bay and vanilla hit her like a fist to the gut. Indiana had grown up the daughter of an MC President, she knew the rules. What happens on a run, stays on a run. It didn't mean it didn't hurt though, and the hurt made her feel guilty.

Standing she took a step back from him. "How about you shower first?"

"What? Come on, Baby," he reached out and gently ran his hands down her sides. She grit her teeth and felt her hands begin to quake.

"I can smell her on you," she barely whispered but he froze. Their eyes stayed locked on one another, neither moving, neither blinking. "Just shower, Mac. I'm not mad. I understand."

He stared a moment longer and then shook his head and walked out.

Indiana stared at the doorway. Sometimes, she thought that he wanted her to be angry. At least then she'd show some measure of possessiveness. She blew out a breath and flopped down on the bed.

::

Nero considered himself to be a business man first, a badass second but he had spent the past three hours at his computer but hadn't been able to make heads or tails of the numbers. Money was missing. A lot of money.

He sat back in his comfortable leather chair and pushed away from the modern metal and glass desk. He paced the length of his office but couldn't get his mind around it. He grabbed his jacket and walked out, remembering to lock the door to his office behind him.

The new Diosa building had class, he liked it. The women did their jobs, most of them had regulars and that kept the money steady… until it wasn't. Other than the 'working girls' he employed two women who cleaned the building, a saucy lesbian lawyer who made sure all his papers were in order, and three guys who regularly kept up the accounts. He couldn't see anyone with access to the accounts screwing him over. They were too smart. He kept them well paid. He couldn't see a reason for any of them to risk skimming.

One of his girls sat on the couch, leaning just slightly into the man she entertained. The man appeared pleased with the attention and Nero continued. One of the guys from his crew, Primo leaned against the wall in such a way he almost blended in with the scenery. His eyes constantly scanned the area, watching the girls, and making sure they were safe. Men from his crew were on constant rotation as bodyguards, it made for good, legitimate income.

Primo suddenly laughed and shook his head before he leaned over the front desk where Lyla sat. He pointed at something on the desk and she flushed and shook her head.

"I'm going blind," Lyla said and turned upon hearing Nero's approaching steps. "Are you heading out for the evening?"

"Yeah," Nero responded. "Everything cool here?"

Lyla grimaced. "Actually, that _ex-client_ of Irina's called."

"Joshua Manning?" Nero asked for clarification but found his anger start to simmer.

"Yes," Lyla replied pushing back some of her long blonde curls.

"Son of a bitch," Nero muttered. "What did he say?"

"Requested Irina," Lyla responded before she shrugged her bare shoulders, her strapless powder blue dress putting a modest amount of alabaster skin on display. "I informed him that she was busy and that he should call back later… figured by then I could have a word with you about it."

"This a problem?" Primo asked looking at Nero as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Nero weighed the pros and cons; sending some of the guys to make a statement out of Joshua Manning could have repercussions but allowing the delusional narcissist to keep thinking that Irina was in some way 'his' would be dangerous to the woman as well as the business.

"Might be," Nero responded. He'd wait a little while, see what happened. "If he calls back, transfer the call to my office, if I'm not here, give him my number," he told Lyla who nodded. He turned once again to Primo. "Make sure Irina has a ride home."

"I will," Primo promised. He watched Nero walk out before he leaned back against the wall again and his eyes returned to the pretty blonde behind the desk. "What do you think that was about?"

Lyla looked up and shrugged. "What was what about?"

"He's distracted," Primo responded, but decided it would be best not to comment further.

"He's probably going to see Gemma," Lyla said, the hopeless romantic inside of her hoped for the best for Nero. She genuinely liked her boss and wanted the best for him. He'd helped her a lot during her time at Diosa, and after the incident where she had been shot in the leg, he gave her a nice cushy job working the desks booking appointments.

Primo didn't agree with Lyla's presumption, but he didn't see the point in worrying her. "Yeah, that's probably it."


	3. Missing Money

**A huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review, I really appreciate all the wonderful comments, they're truly inspiring!**

::

Despite growing up working early morning shifts at Teller-Morrow, Jax still didn't want to get up at five am. He didn't have a choice though, Thomas screamed and cried, the noise woke up Abel. Jax rubbed his eyes and looked to the empty space next to him where Tara should be. His heart twisted. From the moment she had walked into his life, she'd been it for him, his first love, his only true love, the real mother of his children.

"Dad," Abel said from the doorway in his Spiderman pajamas. "Tommy's crying."

"I know," Jax said forcing himself from bed. "I'm coming."

"Dad," Abel said following his father down the hallway and into the nursery. "Where did Mom go?"

"Away," Jax replied vaguely. He had no idea how to explain the situation to his young son.

"When is she coming back?" Abel asked, his eyes on the floor.

"I don't know," Jax snapped as he picked up Thomas from the crib.

He quickly changed his youngest son's diaper and then looked over at the quiet Abel who hadn't moved. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

Jax picked Thomas up and settled the young boy on his hip before approaching Abel and kneeling down before his son. "Hey. Things are tough right now, but I'll figure it out, okay?"

"And Mommy will be home?"

"Yeah," Jax agreed touching his forehead to his sons. "We'll be a whole family again."

Abel gave a tentative smile. "Can we have Cheerios?"

He could no longer imagine a time where he would be able to let go of his son as he had in Belfast. He would be forever grateful for the circumstances that had brought his eldest son back to him. "Cheerios it is."

Jax carried Thomas, Abel trailed a few feet behind as he walked to the kitchen. He got Thomas settled in the high chair and poured Abel a bowl of Cheerios. The knock at the door disrupted his morning and he walked over to answer it. He checked the peephole before opening the door. "Nero."

"Jax," the older man gave his head a nod. Having a son of his own, Nero figured that Jax would be up at the hour, besides, Nero didn't want to give this problem room to breathe. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah, sure," Jax took a step back and him in. "What is this about?"

"Look, I know you have a lot on your plate right now, I respect that but as your business partner I think there is something you need to know about."

Jax sighed. There never seemed to be an end to the crap that piled up in front of him. "It's not something I'm going to like, is it?"

"I don't know, man," Nero replied with a grin. "Sometimes I think you like trouble."

Jax shook his head knowing now for certain that another problem was about to be set down at his feet. The legitimate business wasn't supposed to create more problems, it was supposed to lessen his burden creating quick, clean cash. He didn't blame Nero for coming though, in fact he appreciated it. The Sons of Anarchy were partnered in with Diosa, a problem for Diosa is a problem for all of them. "Let's hear it."

Nero blew out a breath. "Someone skimmed half a million at Diosa."

"Shit," Jax whispered angrily.

::

The men at the table were all fuming after Jax let them know why Nero sat in church with them. There were curses, muttering, and fists slammed against the redwood table. The room had an electric charge of pent up aggression.

"How could _that much_ go missing?" Tig asked, his voice low and angry.

Happy sat back in his chair, anger simmering. No one ripped off the Sons and got away with it. Diosa created legitimate income, something all the Sons needed. It also created a bond between crews. The Sons had burned some bridges as of late and needed all the friends they could get.

"This has been happening for a while," Nero replied appearing comfortable at the table, his chair across from Jax's. "It's been skimmed over time."

"You have any idea who it is?" Chibs asked in a slow, serious manner as he leaned on one elbow on the table. The Scot's dark eyes were on Nero and Jax knew after Galen's threat _'this will affect the Sons, on both sides of the ocean,'_ that Chibs was already edgy.

"No," Nero replied. "That's the biggest problem. I keep my employees paid well, none of them seem to be in any kind of trouble that would indicate their need for a big haul."

"Could it be getting syphoned out externally?" Juice asked. He felt the weight of the looks from his brothers and tried not to cower under them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt comfortable in his kutte, or the last time he felt at ease around his fellow Sons.

"The account is pretty tight," Nero responded with a shrug. "I guess it could be possible."

"But unlikely?" Jax asked.

"I'd say it's internal, but I'm too close to this," Nero admitted feeling slightly out of sorts sitting at the table with the Sons of Anarchy crew. "These are people I picked, people I trust. Besides, I want to catch whoever is doing this. If I start snooping and asking questions-"

"Whoever it is, is going to shut down," Bobby said with a nod. Despite the fact that he had removed his Vice President badge, he still sat at the table to Jax's left.

"And then we don't get our money back," Nero finished. "That's why I came to you, Jax. How do we want to handle this?"

Jax ran his hand over his hair as he mulled over the problem. He ignored the chatter of his belligerent brothers. Club problems never seemed to stop piling up. He gave his head a shake. Bobby and Chucky were both good with numbers, but both were obviously affiliated with SAMCRO.

"We need someone who isn't going to stick out," Jax said, thinking out loud. "We put a Son or well-known affiliate in and whoever this is going to go into hiding." Jax shook his head. "I'll make some calls to other charters, see what I can come up with."

Nero nodded his consent and Jax banged the gavel dismissing church.

::

Quinn stood in the back room doing the order for Sanctuary. When the door opened behind him, he didn't even have to look to know that Tink had walked in. Her stilettos announced her before she had even gotten to the door. "I honestly don't know how you walk around in those all day," he said turning. He gave his wife a look over, she wore a skin tight black dress with lace arms, and her legs put women half her age to shame.

Dark blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at him with a big smile. "They make my ass look fantastic."

"Your ass always looks fantastic," Quinn replied and she laughed. "Trust me," he continued, "I spend a good amount of time studying it."

Tink swatted his arm playfully. "Are you almost done with the order?"

"Yeah, and with plenty of time to spare," he set the clipboard down on a case of beer and took a step closer to his wife.

"Oh no you don't!" Tink said taking a step back and poking him in the chest. Despite how serious she sounded, her eyes were light and spirited. "You need to get that order in."

Quinn just smiled and kept taking steps forward. For each of his steps, Tink took one back until her shoulders hit the wall. A rather impish grin came upon her face.

"You're terrible at denying me," he commented giving her jaw length black hair a little tug.

"I'm such a slut," Tink laughed as she threw her arms around his neck.

His thumb brushed along her jawline and her breath hitched. He bent to kiss her but paused when his phone started ringing obnoxiously in his pocket. "Fuck," he muttered. He straightened out and pulled out his phone noticing the little pout on Tink's face. He gave her a quick kiss and then pulled her close as he flipped the phone open. "Yeah?"

"_It's Jax." _

"How's it going, brother?"

"_We have a little problem at Diosa,"_ Jax's voice sounded stressed, and if even half the stuff Quinn had heard through the grapevine was true, he couldn't blame the man.

Quinn kissed Tink on the top of the head as he listened to the problem and she stared up at him with inquisitive eyes. Quinn nodded as Jax finished.

"That's a lot of money," Quinn noted.

"_We need to find out who it is or we aren't going to see any of it again. We need someone who isn't going to be easily pegged,"_ Jax said. _"Nero and I were thinking a woman. A new girl working at Diosa isn't something that would throw up any red flags."_

Quinn shifted from one foot to the other and blew out a breath. There were moments where club loyalty butted heads with loyalties of another kind. Part of him wanted to keep his mouth shut about a potential solution but the reaper on his back demanded his loyalty. "I know someone but you have to make damn sure that she's protected."

"_Diosa has bodyguards around the clock. I'll set up a safe house for your girl to stay at_."

"Let me talk to her first," Quinn said. "I'll call you back before the end of the day." He flipped his phone shut and stared at it a second before shoving it back into the pocket of his jeans.

Tink stared up at her husband like she might be able to find the truth on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he responded distractedly, more out of habit than honesty. "Everything's fine."

::

Indiana stopped at the end of the dead end road and watched the logging trucks. A loud crack echoed as a tree gave way and fell heavily to the ground. Soon enough the road would be extended, houses would be built, Red Willow would grow. The changes in the town bothered her, the logging seemed like a desecration.

She pined for the days of her youth, days before her naivety had given way to brutal honest world truths. Truth being that her years upon years of schooling and a master's degree didn't matter at all. Her affiliation to Sons of Anarchy overshadowed her intelligence, her passion, her skill.

"Jesus," Emily panted as she walked up beside Indiana. "How do you do that?" Emily put her hands on her trembling knees and tried to catch her breath.

"I run every day and didn't take up smoking," Indiana replied shooting a higher-than-thou look at her friend.

Emily straightened and put her hands on her hips as she looked up to the cloudless sky. "I might not run _every_ day but I get a _workout _when I don't," she smirked and Indiana rolled her eyes in response. "And yeah, the smoking might have been a bad idea, but all the guys do it and I was an ex-smoker, you have no idea how hard it is to be an ex-smoker and watch other people smoke."

"You're right, I don't," Indiana replied staring out at the loggers once again.

The two women stood side by side for a moment. Emily turned to Indiana and studied her profile. "You want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever is bothering you," Emily replied turning to fully face Indiana. "Don't tell me it's nothing either. I'm a professional."

Indiana huffed out an annoyed breath. Emily had gone to the same university as Indiana, got an undergraduate in psychology, specialized in third year and became a sex therapist. She worked at the bar because she enjoyed it and made great tips over the weekend. Mondays thru Thursdays she worked as a therapist at the clinic on Rose Street.

"It was easier being with Mac when I was at school," Indiana admitted still staring at the trees. "We didn't see each other all that often. We didn't live together." She shifted slightly, ashamed to admit such things.

"You're the one who wanted to be an 'Old Lady' instead of 'Quinn's daughter,'" Emily pointed out matter-of-factly.

Indiana nodded. Being 'Quinn's kid' got old quick. She wanted to be seen as older, wiser, and more capable. Being an 'Old Lady,' she got more respect, both from the guys and from the women. She stepped up in the women of the MC hierarchy. She never wanted to be one of those women who were just with a man for a title, for power, and it wasn't just that. She liked Mac well enough, he was handsome, funny and loyal, a fully patched member who already had the respect of her nearest and dearest. They hung out a lot, he came to visit while she was at school, and he'd chat with her over the phone when she was lonely or homesick.

"If you don't tell me what the problem is, I can't help you," Emily said softly, breaking through Indiana's thoughts. "You guys get along well."

"I love Mac," Indiana defended, her tone sharp and dangerous.

Emily's eyes softened. "I know you do." A 'but' hung unspoken between them. She waited, hoping that Indiana would continue but the other woman stayed silent. She pressed her lips together but had never been particularly patient. Figuring from previous conversations with the looser lipped drunken Indiana she ventured a guess. "Is it still… the sex?"

Indiana shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "It's fine."

Emily's dark blue eyes rolled. "Liar. If you don't tell-"

"I'm not discussi-"

"He can't read your mi-"

"I am not talking about this!"

"Well you should!" Emily shouted back in frustration.

The two women faced each other. Emily huffed out a sigh and Indiana's big eyes narrowed. "It's fine. I'm fine. My life is fine," Indiana said through clenched teeth. "Stop trying to use me as your guinea pig."

"I used you for my guinea pig when we were at school," Emily replied frostily. "You were a hell of a lot more open when you were liquored up on Tequila."

Indiana threw up her hands in an agitated fashion. "What does it matter to you?"

"You're my best friend, Indie," Emily said softly. "It pains me to see you like this. You've been in love with-"

"Drop it," Indiana practically growled. "I was a stupid kid who thought her heart was a play thing, something to be given out, and entrusted with others_. I was foolish_. I'm with Mac. I love Mac," she said near forcefully as if trying to make Emily believe her words. "Leave it alone, Em."

Emily watched as Indiana turned on her heel and fell into an easy jog for a few paces before she went full into a run. Emily blew out a breath and wished for a cigarette as she started walking back.

::

Thanks for reading :)


	4. Redeal

Fresh out of the shower, Indiana braided her long blonde hair and felt guilty over how she had spoken to Emily. Her friend had only been trying to help. Emily always tried to fix things but Indiana liked to think her life didn't need fixing, she tried very hard on a daily basis to convince herself that what she had was enough, that her life was enough. She knew her life hadn't worked out the way she had imagined, but she tried to make the best of it. Some days it all became too much and she would rant or rage or simply push everyone away and brood. She kept trying to fit the puzzle pieces of her life together but the picture never became clear.

Dressed in a pair of jeans and a button up white blouse, she brushed on some mascara. She heard the door open, footsteps and two male voices. She threw the mascara tube back into the drawer and shut it before she walked down the hall. The closer she got the more clear the voices became, familiar and easily recognized she smiled as she entered the living room.

"Hi Dad," Indiana greeted.

"Hey Indie," Quinn replied as he pulled his daughter in for a hug. "How was your run?"

"Good." She enjoyed the comfort that her father always brought her. She inhaled the familiar scent of Original Old Spice and leather. She smiled up at him. "Want a water?"

"Sure," he answered letting her go.

She turned and kissed Mac on the cheek. "You want one too?"

"Na, I'm good."

She led the way to the kitchen and both Mac and her father followed. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, had an old style to it. The cupboards were white, plain, silver knobs. The oak kitchen table only sat four with its mismatched chairs.

"I need to talk to you two," Quinn said pulling out a chair at the small table.

Indiana froze for a second and then opened the fridge door. "What about?" She pulled out two waters and placed one in front of her father. Her mind always went to the worse case scenarios, that someone had died, or someone would be spending the foreseeable future in lockup. Quinn gestured to a chair and she took it as a sign to take a seat.

"I got a call this morning," Quinn started as he opened the water bottle. "President of the Redwood Originals."

"What did he want?" Mac asked curiously.

"Someone is skimming in a legit side business they're involved with," Quinn replied. "He wants to put someone in to work the numbers, figure out who it is that's stealing the money, _discretely_. He's reaching out, no one who wears a patch and affiliates that wouldn't be well known in the area." He looked directly at his daughter.

Indiana swallowed hard. "Me?"

"Yeah," Quinn replied not sounding happy about it. "You." She nodded in understanding and fiddled with the cap on her water. "You don't have to agree to this, Indie."

She looked up at her father and could see the worry in his eyes. She then then looked over to Mac. "You said you wanted to check out Charming, see if you wanted to patch there," she looked back down at her water bottle. "This might be a good thing."

"Working for the clu-"

"Clubs _legitimate business_," Indiana cut her father off. "Calm down Dad, it's not like I'm going to be hijacking trucks."

Quinn shot his daughter a dry look. No business with the Sons were safe. Hell, even Sanctuary wasn't as safe as he would like it to be, the old walls had witnessed its fair share of violence. He cared for all three of his daughters, but in different ways. He hadn't been there for Brooklyn when she had been growing up, and really only knew her as an adult. Ink on the birth certificate hadn't even dried for Sidney before he left. With Indiana, he had to learn to be a father, a real one. She had depended on him, he was the only parent she had left. He still thanked God for Tink, there were days when he wasn't sure he could have raised the child without her.

"So what exactly does she have to do?" Mac asked sitting back comfortably in the old styled, white kitchen chair.

Quinn shrugged his broad shoulders. "Details were pretty vague. Jackson Teller, the President, would be able to fill you both in."

"But we'd have to commit to helping first," Indiana mused as she played with the cap of her water bottle. "I'll do it."

"Indie, you should think about this," Quinn warned. Part of him wanted his daughter to be as loyal to the reaper as he is, the other part was terrified that that was exactly the case. "It's a big decision," Quinn tried to convince his youngest daughter. "It isn't required of you. They could find someone else."

Indiana shook her head. "Not someone smarter, and no one more loyal." Indiana's big blue eyes were clear and determined when she looked over at her father. "I'll work the numbers. I'll figure it out."

Mac smiled over at Indiana. "That's my girl," he smiled proudly and Indiana shot him an appreciative smile in return. "I'll ride down with you," Mac told her. "I'll check Charming out, feel out the guys in the mother charter. I reckon they still aren't too cool with Nomads after that shit Go-Go, Greg and Frankie pulled."

Indiana's eyes slipped from Mac over to her father who had tensed angrily at the mention of the dishonoured Nomad brothers. She didn't blame her father for being angry. These were men he'd known, trusted. Indiana had grown up around these men, she hadn't spent a lot of time with Greg or Go-Go but Frankie had been like an annoying uncle who had playfully teased her, she had been fond of him and now thinking about any of those three Nomads made her skin crawl. Their betrayal had shaken her to her core. If those brothers who had been Sons for so long could flip, what other snakes laid in their midst?

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Indiana told Mac. "I could go on my own. Likely I'll be shacking up in a hotel if they don't want patches or well-known associates. We probably won't see much of each other."

"There aren't many charters in California," Mac reasoned calmly. "I know you want to stay close to home."

Indiana smiled at that. Mac had a nomadic heart. He could live anywhere. Indiana though, while she enjoyed going to South Dakota for school, she had roots that had pushed deep and been covered in concrete. She wasn't about to leave California, she couldn't bear to be that far from her family for so long again.

"So, you'll check out the mother charter and I'll check out…" she frowned and looked at her father. "Did he say what business it was?"

Quinn cringed. "Diosa."

"Which is?" Indiana raised an eyebrow in question.

"Escorts," Quinn replied quickly, uncomfortable with the line of conversation with his daughter.

Indiana nodded solemnly. She didn't have any intention of continuing that line of conversation with her father. She shifted equally uncomfortable. "Alright. When will I be expected to be there?"

"As soon as possible. I need to call to confirm." Quinn felt unsettled, he didn't like the idea of his daughter going to work in a brothel, even if she'd only be focused on the numbers. The kind of money stolen would make a man do desperate things. Desperate men were dangerous and violent. He didn't want his youngest daughter caught up in the middle. "Jackson set up a safe house for you, he promises protection." He could no longer tell if he was trying to reassure Indiana, or himself.

"But I'm not supposed to look like an affiliate," Indiana replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Never said it would be a Son watching over you," Quinn countered.

She nodded. "I can be packed and ready to go in an hour."

"Tomorrow will be soon enough," Quinn argued. "They'll need to get shit in order before you get there any way. Pack up, say your goodbyes, take tonight and leave in the morning."

"What about my shifts?"

"I'll deal with it," Quinn replied. He thought briefly about calling his eldest daughter, Brooklyn. She once worked at the bar, knew how to handle the patrons, the till, the tabs and the drink. His eldest daughter had also walked out of Sanctuary five years ago. She'd had a fight with her boyfriend at the time, Mark, a fellow Son. Over time, she had grown to resent the club and the men in it. He couldn't recall the breaking point, only that she'd told him she hated him right before she stormed out and never looked back. He had his former Intelligence Officer, Dax, keep tabs on her. She had married a grocery store manager two years ago, and a year ago gave birth to a baby boy.

Indiana nodded as she unscrewed and then screwed back on the cap to her water. "Okay." Nerves were starting to flutter inside of her, but she relished them and the upcoming challenge.

Quinn nodded in return. "Good. I'll leave you two to it. Make sure to stop in before you go. You know how Tink gets."

Indiana smiled and shook her head slightly. She did know how Tink could get. She also knew her father would be disappointed if she didn't stop in before the long drive to Charming. "I will. Promise."

Quinn stood, kissed his daughter on the top of the head and walked out of the kitchen leaving Mac and Indiana alone.

"You look excited," Mac commented.

"Do I?" Indiana replied with a bit of a smirk. "Maybe I am. It will be interesting to be in Charming for a while. Working in a brothel," she laughed. "Oh the things you think you'll never say."

Mac smiled and shook his head. He took her hand in his hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. "You're looking forward to the challenge, to the job. New opportunity. I know you wanted to spread your wings away from the club, but maybe your calling is within it."

Logic told her that he only meant to comfort, but it felt like sandpaper against her soul. She wanted to be something, someone, but her affiliation with the club made it impossible for her to stand without them. Her connection to the club had become her cage, she felt like a bird with her wings clipped. The desire and instinct to fly was there, but outside factors kept her trapped. She would simply have to make the best of it.

"I guess I should get packing."

::

"Charming?" Emily's mouth dropped a bit, a fry falling from her fingertips. "For how long?"

Indiana shrugged as she stirred her tea. "I'm not really sure, until I can untangle the finances at least. Mac is checking out the area, the charter so it might be permanent."

Chatter at nearby tables kept the silence from becoming to overbearing. The café they sat in was one of the few in Red Willow, and easily the girls' favourite. Indiana loved the pastries, and Emily couldn't get enough of their spicy fries.

Emily blew out a shocked breath, her mind trying to catch up. "You might be leaving," she said rather dazed.

"I'll visit, obviously, I'll visit," Indiana quickly said.

"Yeah, but it won't be the same," Emily whined slightly, her lips pressed together tightly as she tried not to be childish about her friend's decision. They had been so close for so long and they relied on one another when their men were gone. "I won't get to see you every day."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Indiana replied with a shrug. "Or that's what I keep telling myself. We might only be there a few weeks, and if it's longer, we'll deal with it."

Emily grinned. "You make us sound like a couple."

"We're kind of a package deal," Indiana said with a smile.

"This is true," Emily said returning to her plate of spicy fries. "So, you're going to be set up with a place of your own?"

Indiana nodded. "Yeah, I don't know where, or what I'll be living in but it'll be arranged for me."

"And there will be protection right?" Emily asked, her dark blue eyes wells of worry. "I mean, they couldn't ask this of you without ensuring you'd be looked after, right?"

"I guess they're involved with anther crew that is linked to Diosa," she said quietly despite the fact that no one had paid them any attention. "I suspect it's the other crew that will be keeping tabs on me since I can't look like an affiliate of the Sons," she said bitterly. "Twenty seven years old, still being babysat."

"Well, I for one am glad," Emily replied seriously. "Thieves don't like getting caught, Indie. Whoever it is, isn't going to want you to find out who they are or where the money is."

"Then I'll just have to be discrete, that's the entire point of sending a woman to a brothel after all," Indiana replied.

"So… do they want you to pretend to be one of the girls?"

Honestly, Indiana hadn't thought about it, and her father didn't have too many details for her to work with. She shook her head. "I doubt it, my father would have shut the Redwood President down if he thought I was going to be some escort."

"You said so yourself that the details were vague," Emily argued.

Indiana frowned and stole one of Emily's fries. "I guess I will see when I get there."

"Are you nervous?"

Fiddling with the end of her braid, Indiana considered the question. "A little," she admitted. Her big blue eyes flicking up to meet Emily's. "I'm also really excited though, I think this will be good for me. Working with numbers again, and not just Sanctuary's."

"So you're okay with working for the club?" Emily asked skeptically before tossing another spicy fry in her mouth.

Indiana shrugged. "It's the only place where my affiliation is a bonus instead of that red strike."

Emily reached across the table and took Indiana's hand. "You know I'll only be one phone call away if you need someone." She wondered if the time alone and space from Red Willow would give her friend some much needed clarity.

"I know," Indiana replied with a small but grateful smile.

"I love you to tits."

Indiana howled in laughter and Emily was right behind her. It was an inside joke between the two. Indiana had written 'I love you to bits' in Emily's twenty-first birthday card but Emily had deciphered the notoriously messy writing as 'I love you to tits' which is what they had told each other ever since.

Indiana wiped away some joyful tears that quite nearly became sorrowful. "I'm really going to miss you, Em."

Emily cast Indiana a smile. "A phone call away," she repeated.

::

**Thanks for reading :)**


	5. Life Goes On

Ally Lowen sat behind her desk and had stacks of paper nearly up to her eyeballs. She cursed colourfully. Standing she turned to look out the window. It appeared to be a beautiful afternoon but she had spent the entire day trying to untwist the nightmare that was Tara Knowles-Teller's case. Circumstantial evidence, the police had nothing, nothing but circumstantial evidence and the push of an ex-US Marshal.

She knew that by the end of the next day she would have Tara out. It didn't sit well with her though. Why had the ex-US Marshal pushed for the police to bring her in? She could be cleared entirely, what purpose would that serve him?

She felt for Tara, who currently resided in a women's low security facility. Ally had visited her clients enough times to see the state in which inmates lived. She didn't imagine that the doctor would handle it as well as she had. Ally figured she should have given Tara more credit, still, some of the most hardened people felt the shift that prison life- no matter how short a sentence- could bring. She worried over Tara's two sons, over Jax.

Her entire livelihood revolved around the Sons of Anarchy. They were good clients, and Jax always treated her well. Occasionally he got snippy, but she understood. She rarely met clients under good circumstances. Sometimes she wondered where she would be had she not brushed shoulders with Tom Rosen while she'd been a law student struggling to make ends meet. She quite nearly dropped out of law school, her finances becoming so bad. Rosen had seen potential, he was a new lawyer himself, but sharp as a tack and vicious in a court battle.

Rosen had introduced her to the Sons and she had refused to cower under them despite the initial fear that had gripped her. For her loyalty, they would pay her way through school, and true to their word they had. She got the impression that they had paid for Rosen's education as well. In any case, the Sons had bought their loyalties. Men like them always needed lawyers and legal counsel, both were kept busy and she had enough work from them alone to pay her bills.

She would remain loyal to the Sons, and she fell under their protection if anything were to happen. She liked that, the sense that she was part of something more.

With a deep breath she looked back to her desk. Yes, she would have Tara out. She picked up the information she had gotten on one ex-US Marshal Lee Toric and wondered once again why he had pushed to have Tara picked up. Deciding that she needed to focus on one thing at a time, she put the information sheet in her desk drawer and returned to her paperwork for Tara's release.

::

Indiana walked into her parent's house without bothering to knock. "Hello?" she called out before removing her flats.

"In the kitchen," Tink's voice floated through the house along with the scents of spaghetti. Despite catching a late lunch and having desert at the café with Emily, Indiana's stomach rumbled.

Indiana felt apprehensive as she walked into the kitchen. She watched Tink dance a little in place to some song on the radio as she stirred the spaghetti sauce and it killed the apprehension and her shoulders sagged suddenly free of the tension she hadn't even realized she'd had. "Hey Tink," Indiana kissed her step-mother on the cheek as her hand blindly went into the bowl of grated cheese.

"Hey Indie," Tink replied putting the lid on the spaghetti sauce before turning her piercing blues on the young woman. "Get out of the cheese!" Indiana quickly put the grated marble cheese in her mouth and chewed with a grin. Tink shook her head. "Are you staying for dinner? Where's Mac?"

"Mac's at the house," Indiana replied before walking to the fridge, she found a water bottle and cracked the top as she hip-checked the fridge closed. "And I wish I could stay," she replied lifting the lid to the simmering sauce and inhaling deeply. "Unfortunately, I haven't even begun to pack and I want to get an early start to the day tomorrow."

"Early to bed, early to rise," Tink said with a nod. "So, Charming?"

"Yep," Indiana replied as she leaned her back against the counter and watched Tink spread the cheese over the garlic bread.

Tink remained quiet for a moment before she sighed. "I sure am going to miss you."

Indiana felt her eyes well up and she blinked quickly trying to clear her vision. "I'll miss you too, Mom."

Tink wiped her hands on a tea towel before she turned to Indiana. Their height difference became even more exaggerated since Tink wasn't wearing heels for once. Tink's hand's rested on Indiana's shoulders as she looked up at her step-daughter. "You take care of yourself."

Indiana nodded sharply. "I will."

"You're taking your gun," Quinn said from the doorway of the kitchen, startling both women.

"Jesus, Rane!" Tink cursed quietly and shook her head. It constantly surprised her that her husband could be so quiet, his stature gave no indication of his stealth.

"Dad," Indiana's eyes narrowed. "I don't need a gun."

Quinn crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at his daughter resolutely. "You're taking the gun."

Indiana had to bite her tongue to keep from whining. She took a deep breath. "Da-"

"You're taking the gun," Quinn repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Alright, I will," Indiana said putting her hands up in defense.

"You better have it on you too," Quinn said, eyeing his daughter looking for any indication that she might be lying to him. "I'll make sure Jax checks."

Indiana felt her temper rise and a second later Tink's hand rubbed soothing circles on her back. "You should get packing, Honey."

"Yeah," Indiana nodded before she kissed Tink on the cheek. "I'll talk to you soon."

She walked over to her father and despite her anger, she hugged him tightly. "I'll miss you, Daddy," she said softly. "And please don't embarrass me by having Jax check for my gun," she said drawing back a bit. She shifted from one foot to the other. "I promise I'll carry it in my bag."

Knowing his daughter would be good to her word, Quinn nodded. "Alright. Please, be careful. If you feel uncomfortable, if you want out, you call me."

Indiana gave a slight nod.

"I mean it," Quinn said, his hands squeezing his daughter's shoulders lightly.

"I know," she said slightly agitated. "I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me so much, Dad. I'm old enough to look after myself."

"You'll always be my little girl."

She knew that, and it was a double edged sword. As much as she loved her father, she always ended up lost under his shadow. No matter where she went, or who she was with, first and foremost she was Rane Quinn's daughter.

"I love you," he kissed her forehead.

Resignedly, she sighed. "I love you too."

::

Mac had the smaller of their two suitcases. He had packed his clothes, a spare gun, a box of bullets and a knife. Mac had gone to get a drink with Angus before dinner, and Indiana had finished off her packing. Indiana's suitcase just about burst at the seams with clothing, makeup and a few of her accounting books just in case she needed a reference.

Indiana stood across from the window and counted the wood panels. Six in, she dropped to her knees and pried the loose floorboard up. Mac didn't know about her stash. She'd still had one at her father's too. She pulled out the tin box that once held chocolates and popped the top off. From the box, she pulled out her pearl handled Colt revolver. Her father knew a guy who customized guns, and while it looked antique it had been brand new when she'd gotten it for her sixteenth birthday.

She flipped open the chamber, six empty slots. With a flick of her wrist the chamber slid back into place and she put the gun into her purse along with the box of bullets from the tin. She pulled out the wad of cash she kept stashed there too, five grand in twenties. Unsure, she held it in her hands. "Just in case," she said to herself before putting it in her purse although she hoped there didn't come a reason to blow that kind of money while in Charming. She put the tin back and shoved the wood plank back into place.

::

"Ma?" Kerrianne walked into the house after her day working with Trinity at Ashby's Provisions. She'd finished school and still toyed with the thought of college or university, but honestly she felt a terrible sense of limbo. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, her life had never been clean, never been easy. Despite phone conversations with her Da once a week, and Jimmy O being dead she still had this uneasy sense that wouldn't settle despite two years passing.

Silence greeted her. She looked out the window, her mother's car still sat in the driveway. "Ma?" she called a little louder while she made her way to the kitchen. She kept her back to the wall as she bent low and opened the lower cupboard, she took the lid off the medium sized pot and pulled out a Glock. She checked the clip like her father had taught her, slid it smoothly back into place.

On a deep breath she raised the gun. She didn't feel comfortable with it, but she felt marginally safer. She heard a door open, faint music following it and then footsteps. She peered down the hallway, keeping her back against the doorframe of the kitchen. "Ma!" she shouted.

"Yeah, Kerri?" Her mother replied.

Kerrianne huffed out a breath and cursed the unrelenting paranoia she felt. "What the bloody hell are you doing? Sounds like you're having a party in your bedroom!"

"Like you're one to talk," Fiona shouted back. "I was listening to some music while I soaked in the tub, is that a crime?"

Shaking her head, Kerrianne flicked the safety back on the Glock and returned it to the pot, making sure to replace the lid when she had finished.

::

Indiana had just finished making herself a grilled cheese sandwich when Mac returned. "You want one?" she asked when he came into the kitchen.

"Na, I ate a bit at the bar," Mac replied as he went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He popped off the top and threw it in the trash before taking a swig. "Did you see Tink?"

"Yeah," Indiana replied taking a bite of her late dinner.

He looked her up and down with a grin. "Are you packed?"

"Yeah." Indiana abandoned her sandwich to fetch a drink from the fridge. She filled her glass with orange juice and brought it back to the table with her. She ate her supper slowly, her heart hammering in her chest. She drank the rest of her juice and brought the dishes to the sink.

Mac's hand moved over her hips, his chest pressed against her back. "You smell nice," he commented. His hands were light, nimble and gentle as they roamed over her body. He turned her around and lifted her up so she sat on the countertop. His lips claimed hers, soft and slow but she wanted the burn of stubble, needed the haste of desperation. She gripped the countertop tightly in effort to stop the trembling of her hands.

His lips moved to her neck and terrifying sweet-nothings escaped his lips. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered. Her heart hammered in her chest as panic swept through her. She tried desperately to reason with herself, but she didn't believe the fear was rational. She shut her eyes tightly and allowed herself to go on auto-pilot.

::

Happy watched the clock on the wall. He had ten more minutes on his shift at Diosa. The money helped a lot, Nero paid well. The girls made for a good view. Rarely did anything come up, but when it did it could be easily dealt with. Easy, clean money. _Money that went missing._ He hoped that whoever Jax had managed to get to do the numbers could figure out the mess. The Sons had been ripped off, and that wouldn't sit well with any of them.

"Hey, Hap," Lyla came over and held out an envelope. When he eyed it suspiciously she rolled her eyes. "It's your pay stub."

He took it from her and watched her continue on with her envelopes giving them to the girls who weren't currently with a client, and the guys running security. She paused with Primo, Nero's right hand man, and despite the fact that Happy couldn't hear what they were saying, there seemed to be something going on there. He couldn't decide how he felt about that. He still thought of her as Opie's Old Lady, but she had always been nice, and if anyone deserved a slice of happiness, it was her.

He waited, and five minutes before his shift ended Juice, who had the next shift, came in. The guy ran his hand over his Mohawk and walked over. "You might want to head out," Juice said quickly. "It's going to rain, I can feel it."

Happy frowned. Rain was not a biker's friend. "Thanks," Happy replied walking off without another word to anyone.

::

Thanks for reading, reviews are always welcome ;)


	6. By Chance

**I thought this chapter would never end. Get snacks. It's a long one.**

::

"The highway will be faster," Indiana argued as she unlocked the back of her bright green Prius. Her eyes returned to the little home they had shared. She didn't feel particularly attached to the place, but felt a little odd leaving it.

"No, we're not taking the highway. It will be crowded," Mac responded lifting her heavy bag and putting it into the back of her vehicle. "We'll likely get stuck in traffic for hours." He shifted the bag around in the back till it laid out and it wouldn't move around. "I could probably get around it, but you sure as hell won't be able to in this," Mac gestured to her vehicle with contempt, "abomination."

"It's a Prius, and it has excellent fuel economy," Indiana responded in a particularly haughty manner.

Mac pressed his lips together in effort not to laugh. He shook his head before kissing her temple. "If I didn't love you so much, I'd burn this fucking thing," he said pointing his thumb in the direction of her vehicle.

"It's a good thing you love me then," Indiana replied with a playful smile. "We're taking the highway," she returned to their argument. "It is the most direct route."

Mac opened his mouth to argue when he spotted the basketball in the back of her car. He took it out and twirled it on one finger. "Let's play," he said. "Winner choses the route."

"That is juvenile," Indiana said, watching as he started to dribble the ball.

"Scared you'll lose?" Mac taunted with a grin, the ball bouncing rhythmically off the paved driveway.

Indiana stared at him for a moment, her lips pressed tightly together as she considered the probability of her getting her way. Regardless of outcome, her competitive spirit got the better of her. She lunged and got the ball away, dribbling it as she walked backwards. "Alright," she agreed with a cocky smirk. "You're on."

::

Trinity came out the back of Ashby's Provisions. She had a fifteen minute break while her mother worked the shop. She caught sight of Cherry who sat on the bench with a cigarette dangling from her fingertips.

"You're early," Trinity said with an impish grin. "That's new."

"Eat me," Cherry responded her unfriendly tone became balanced by the little smirk she sent Trinity's way. "Has it been busy?"

"Na," Trinity replied taking a seat beside the American girl who had taken refuge with them years ago. She enjoyed their easy friendship, and having both Cherry and Kerrianne working shifts at Ashby's Provisions made her days much more enjoyable. "It's dead all day." She stared at Cherry's cigarette and patted down her apron only to remember she'd finished the last of her pack during her morning break. "Do you have another fag?"

"Aren't you a little young," Cherry teased with a grin on her face.

"I amn't!" Trinity snarled. She hated that everyone assumed that she was years younger than she was. She was twenty-two and still people assumed she was seventeen at best. "And you know it," she muttered still quietly fuming over Cherry's comment.

"Testy." Cherry searched her purse for her pack of cigarettes.

"Been workin' all day with my mother," Trinity said as way of explanation. She loved her mother but there were days when the woman could drive a saint mad.

"Mo's great."

"You argue with her more than I do."

"And she still lets me keep my job." Cherry triumphantly pulled out the box and passed it to Trinity.

Cherry brought her own cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply. Her life had never been neat, tidy or smooth but she had never imagined that she would have found a man she adored only to have to leave him. She never imagined that she would have to travel to Ireland to avoid the warrant for her arrest- okay maybe burning down the condo she had shared with her d-bag husband made that entire situation inevitable, but Ireland had been quite the curve ball. She never imagined that after being an Old Lady, this time of Liam O'Neil, she'd be left with another body to bury.

Cherry remained incredibly grateful to Maureen who had taken her in when she first came to Belfast. Her new refuge might have been because of the initial push from her husband, Keith McGee, the former president of SAMBEL, before his death. Her being getting there and being protected has been because of her brief affiliation to SAMCRO. Maureen kept her with a job, and she'd been able to save enough money for her own tiny flat.

Trinity pinned the cigarette between her lips and used her own lighter to get the end burning. She inhaled, held the smoke a second and blew it out before she handed the pack back to Cherry.

The two young women sat in a companionable silence. Cherry dropped the end of her cigarette and stubbed it out under her boot. "I should head in and let Mo go home."

"I'll be back in ten," Trinity responded.

Cherry nodded, she blew her fire engine red hair from her eyes. She still hadn't gotten use to the colour, or the fact that her hair had been cut to chin length. She had needed the change after Liam. She zipped up her bag and headed in to start her shift at Ashby's Provisions.

Trinity enjoyed the moment of silence, as she finished off the cigarette.

::

The park smelled of fresh cut grass. No children played on the swings or monkey bars. Mac and Indiana were the only ones on the basketball court. Located a convenient five minute walk from their house, it served as a perfect place to compete.

Indiana pivoted on her right foot before jumping as she shot the ball. It didn't even touch the rim as it slid through the hole with a 'whoosh.' "Nothin' but net!" Indiana hollered as she raised her hands in victory as the ball bounced a few times before rolling into the grass.

"Unbelievable," Mac muttered shaking his head.

"Who's the champ?" she asked rubbing in her win. She swung her hips in a little victory dance. "I'm the champ."

"You're an ungracious winner, you know that?" Mac muttered as he collected the ball and returned to her. "I'm glad we're taking separate vehicles. A four hour drive with you right now would be completely insufferable."

She laughed as she leaned into him just slightly. "We're taking the highway."

"Yeah, I figured," Mac replied tucking the basketball under one arm while the other wound around the small of her waist. She rested her head against his shoulder for a moment and inhaled deeply the scent of him and the fresh cut grass of the park. "I'm going to miss this," he murmured as his fingertips skimmed up her spine, her neck and wound themselves in her hair.

Indiana had mixed feelings that she couldn't make head or tails of since she insisted on shoving them down, locking the box and throwing away the key. "I'll miss you," she replied truthfully. She and Mac had been friends for a long time, despite the fact that he had prospected and later patched Nomad, Mac spent the majority of his time in Red Willow. Even with her going to school, and him going on runs they hadn't ever spent that much time apart since he'd joined the Sons. The complications of her feelings came with being his Old Lady.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and held her own wrists to keep him there for just a moment. When she closed her eyes it felt like an old memory, one where they stood just like this on the court at the far side of Sanctuary's parking lot. The memory of the night that everything between them changed.

He kissed her temple, just like he had in the memory. "We should go," he said softly.

"Yeah," she whispered, her mind skipping back to the present. She looked up and his lips claimed hers in light, sweet kisses. He released her and she let out a small sigh. His hand found hers and they walked hand in hand back to their vehicles.

::

Lyla came into Diosa earlier than usual, as per the request of Nero. She worried that perhaps he wasn't pleased with her job performance. She found her aging difficult to deal with. She had once been a porn star, then she worked as an escort but since the incident where she got shot in the leg she'd been booking appointments. She liked her new position and feared losing it. In the business she spent her life in, she was approaching the age where there would be less and less men interested. Booking appointments though, that would be a consistently good job.

She pulled herself to full height and adjusted the strap of her purse nervously. The building didn't look so big on the outside. The building stood strong, clean and inviting. The two big planters on either side of the door were overflowing with colourful and beautifully scented blooms. She walked between the planters, her fingers skimming over a big yellow flower before she gave the front door of Diosa a testing pull. Finding the door unlocked, she walked in. A couple of cleaners were there dusting the furniture and wiping down the glass. She figured Nero would be in his office and headed there first. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Nero's voice came from beyond the door.

Lyla timidly pulled the door open. Nero was not alone. Jax sat across from him and he stood when she entered. "Hey," Jax motioned her closer with one hand.

"Hey," she responded. Her nerves settling slightly at the sight of the SAMCRO President. She knew deep down that he would never allow anything to happen to her. Jax had always been good to her, especially after Opie died, but seeing him always made her a little sad. He always served to remind her of late husband.

"How are Ellie and Kenny?" Jax asked.

"They're good," she replied. She found it difficult to take care of three kids. Piper, her own son, was hard enough, the added stress of the Opie's two children weighed on her shoulders. "They ask about you sometimes. If you have time, you should visit."

Jax offered a lazy smile. "I will, maybe I'll bring Abel and Thomas with me."

"I'm sure they would like that," Lyla responded before turning to look at her boss and then back to Jax. "But I don't think that this is why I was called in."

"No, it wasn't," Jax replied. He sounded older, stressed. Lyla's nerves spiked once again.

Nero gestured to the second seat across from where he sat at his desk. "Please, sit."

Lyla walked over in her heels and sat carefully before crossing her legs at her ankles. "So, what is this about?"

Jax settled back down into his own chair and shared a look with Nero. Jax looked over at the woman his best friend had taken as a second wife. "We trust you," he started. He watched Lyla's eyes narrow with curiosity. "Which is why we wanted to let you in on something that is going on here at Diosa."

"Someone started skimming money," Nero took over. "A lot of money."

"Who?" Lyla asked sounding surprised.

"We don't know that yet," Jax replied as he ran his hand through his blond hair.

"But we're going to find out," Nero sounded determined, and a hint of anger wove its way into his voice.

Lyla took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. Someone needed to get their head checked, in her opinion. Who the heck would be stupid enough to steal not only from Nero Padilla, but the Sons of Anarchy? "How are you going to do that?"

"We have someone coming in to work the books," Nero informed her. "Comb over absolutely everything. Payroll, accounts, expense reports, bills, the works."

"Who?" Lyla asked curiously. "Is it Bobby?"

"No," Jax replied. "No one from the club, we don't want to raise red flags."

"The guys already work security," Lyla pointed out.

"But none of the guys are involved with the numbers," Jax replied shaking his head. "Suddenly sending a Son in to work the numbers is going to throw up red flags that we are suspicious."

"An affiliate?" Lyla asked.

Jax nodded once. "Called around. Quinn said he would send someone. We kept things brief and vague on the phone. I don't really know who he's sending, I just requested a woman who could work the numbers and he doesn't really know the details of what is going on here at Diosa."

"A new girl won't stand out," Lyla murmured to herself with an agreeing nod. She looked back up. "So why are you guys telling me this?"

"Our new girl is going to need to learn the ropes," Nero said leaning back in his chair. "I can't be paying any special attention. Give her the tour, introduce her to the business, and get her whatever she needs."

"Of course," Lyla agreed immediately. Since she had worked with Luanne Delaney she'd been associated with the club. She came further into the fold when she'd gotten into a relationship with Opie. She still fell under the wing of the club's protection and was grateful for it.

"Thanks," Jax said before standing. "I have to get going. She should be at the shop soon." He kissed Lyla's temple. "Take care of yourself."

"You too," she whispered in return and listened to his footsteps as they lead him out the door.

::

Chibs sat out front of the Teller-Morrow in his work uniform smoking a cigarette. He had spent the morning trying to fix a transmission problem. He had passed off the three oil changes and a tire rotation to Filthy Phil who muttered to himself as he worked. Chibs took a deep drag and quickly blew it back out. Fucking menthol. He'd been out and the pack had been lying abandoned on one of the tool boxes.

The seams of the club were unravelling. Things were as bad as they'd ever been. Worse, because despite the blood of wars past, this time brothers were at odds. Conflicts from within threatened them. He knew he held a part in that. He couldn't be in the same room as Juice, a brother he had once been close to. He tried to keep from fighting with the man. Juice had helped with Clay and that had put him back under the good graces of Jax.

Part of him wanted to beat Juice bloody. The other part just wanted to be able to go back to the way things had been before. Juice wasn't the only one keeping secrets though, and he wasn't the only brother who had tried to negotiate with Feds. Hell, he himself had stood there face to face with Stahl. He shook his head, but his mind didn't clear.

They never dealt with the things that happened, not if they could simply skim it over and continue on through sheer force of will. Problem was, more things piled on and it became more and more difficult to balance. Chibs knew eventually something would give, and he could only speculate on the fallout.

Chibs's line of thought broke as Happy came out of garage and sat down next to him.

Happy pulled out a pack of cigarettes and paused as he pulled one out. Happy's nostrils flared, his dark eyes flicked over to Chibs. "Are you fucking smoking menthol?"

"I'm out," Chibs responded gruffly in his own defense.

Happy blew out a breath that clearly said he was appalled by the choice and silently offered his pack.

Chibs stubbed out the menthol stick and flicked it away before taking one of Happy's. Chibs pinned the cigarette between his lips and cupped his hands around his lighter to keep the wind from interfering as he lit up. He inhaled deeply and nearly coughed at how strong they were.

"You got these at the Wehewa reservation," Chibs accused. "Didn't you?"

"Cheaper," Happy responded.

Chibs shook his head, Happy's reasoning didn't surprise him in the least. They watched as Jax pulled in and parked his motorcycle.

The President walked over to them pulling his own cigarettes out and lighting up as he walked. He shoved the pack back into his pockets and nodded at his Sargent-at-Arms, and Happy. "Have you guys cleared the dockets?"

Chibs shook his head. "Sorry, Brother. Transmission is bein' a shit," his accent muddled the words slightly. "Car's a banger anyway."

"Can it be fixed?" Jax asked as he blew out smoke.

"Almost got it," Chibs said with a nod. "But if it conks out again, the owner is shit outta luck." Chibs took another drag off his cigarette before he nodded his head slightly at Jax. "So how'd it go at Diosa?"

The rumble of a motorcycle announced Bobby and Tig arriving. Jax knew approximately when their new numbers girl would be arriving and the guys were all to be in the clubhouse before then.

"Caught Lyla up to speed," Jax replied. He flicked the ashes from the end of his cigarette and they scattered in the gentle breeze. He took a few steps to the side so he could look at the clock inside of the garage. "Our girl should be here soon."

More motorcycles announced the arrivals of Juice and the prospect V-Lin.

"What do you boys think about patchin' him?" Jax asked conversationally as he watched the prospect and Juice park their bikes in the line. They were low on numbers and Jax didn't like it.

"His time's up," Chibs said with a nod. "Seems solid."

Happy nodded his head once.

"We'll vote it soon," Jax decided with a nod watching his brothers go into the clubhouse.

Happy crushed the end of his cigarette under his boot. Chibs stubbed his out on the picnic table and flicked it away. Jax took another drag. "Get yourselves a drink, I'll get Phil to close up the garage."

Neither Chibs nor Happy had any inclination to argue with that order and both men walked off toward the clubhouse.

::

Jax sat in front of the now closed garage. He paced slightly as he smoked his third cigarette in the waiting time. A motorcycle pulled in. The kutte and lettering even at the distance informed Jax that the man was a Son. The engine turned off and Jax walked toward the newcomer. The man dismounted the motorcycle and took off his helmet to expose strawberry blonde hair that waved and curled around his ears.

"Quinn said he was sending a woman," Jax said angrily.

"Just wait," the man responded removing his sunglasses and shoving them into the front pocket of his kutte where Nomad was written proudly.

A green Prius turned in and drove up to them before stopping. The quiet engine stopped. Jax walked around to the driver's side door and opened it.

A youthful woman with long fair hair looked up at him. "Hi," she said with a smile. She grabbed a brown pocketbook from the passenger seat and climbed out. "I'm Indiana," she introduced herself in a professional manner. "You must be Mr Teller," she stuck out her hand. "Quinn sent me."

Jax couldn't help himself, he took her hand and instead of shaking it as she had gone for so professionally he turned her hand slightly and kissed the back of it. "It's a pleasure, darlin'."

"Watch it," the man said coming up beside Indiana.

"This is Mac," Indiana introduced.

"I'm her Old Man."

Jax didn't miss the possession in Mac's voice. He let go of Indiana's hand. "Nomad," he muttered.

"Looking to patch," Mac said.

Jax felt at odds about the Nomads. He trusted Quinn, but the rest of them he just couldn't be sure of. He figured he would as Happy, a former Nomad, what he knew about the newcomer. They needed the numbers, and he couldn't be picky at this point. "We can test you out," Jax replied coolly.

"I'd appreciate it," Mac replied.

"We should get inside, we don't want anyone knowing you're an affiliate around here," Jax said to Indiana and she nodded in understanding. "We're all in the clubhouse, come on," Jax told them and lead the way across the lot.

::

Happy nursed a glass of Jack Daniels as he shot a round of pool with Tig. Twenty bucks sat riding on the game. Tig kept trying to mess him up but he stuck to the game with cool concentration. He lined up his shot, hit the white ball which tapped against the purple solid giving it that extra push it needed to fall into the hole.

Tig cursed.

Walking around the table, Happy eyed the positions of the eight ball. He bent slightly, lining the cue with the white ball. As he pulled the cue back the door behind him opened and he figured the woman had finally arrived.

"Guys," Jax said loudly gaining the attention of the men in the room. Happy focused on the task at hand. "This is Indiana." Happy hit the ball far too hard, the eight ball went in but the white ball followed right after.

"Ha!" Tig hooted triumphantly grabbing their bet money from a side table.

"She's going to be helping to sort the mess with the finances at Diosa," Jax continued.

Happy whirled around and set eyes on Indiana Quinn for the first time in over seven years. She still wore her fair blonde hair long, but now had bangs that fell below her eyebrows making her blue eyes seem smaller, more in proportion with the rest of her face. Her body seemed exactly as he remembered it, long, trim and athletic. Her clothing threw him for a loop; black skinny jeans, a white blouse and a black blazer. Her combat boots had been replaced with sensible, professional blue flats. She looked like an accountant, but she didn't look like the Indiana he remembered.

He couldn't explain the sudden surge of anger. "What the hell are you doing here?" he growled at her and for the first time her eyes met his. Colour drained from her face.

"Hap?" Indiana's voice had gone quiet and the clubhouse had done the same, most of the guys looking at Happy as if he'd completely lost it. Indiana blinked, shock flooding her system and she tried desperately to think clearly.

"Quinn sent you?" Happy's voice held disbelief and Indiana bristled at the sound of it.

"Yes, he did," Indiana responded, heat simmering in her voice as her arms crossed over her chest. He happened to be the very last person she wanted to see. Seven years may have passed but apparently the hurt hadn't gone away. Every emotion she had felt when she last set eyes on him came back full force and she struggled to maintain an outward appearance of absolute control.

"You two know each other?" Jax asked his eyebrow raising in question.

"She's Quinn's kid," Happy replied, his dark eyes never leaving Indiana. He looked right at her, yet, he still couldn't believe that she stood in the Charming clubhouse.

Indiana scoffed. "I'm twenty-seven," she held onto her anger like an anchor. Anger could be acceptable in such a situation, breaking down into tears would not be. "Please refrain from calling me a 'kid.'"

She felt Mac's hand on the back of her neck and knew he was making sure that everyone knew that he hadn't just happened to be riding down with her. He was marking his claim and when she looked up at him, she noticed Mac's green eyes were narrowed at Happy.

"That's Mac, Indiana's Old Man," Jax introduced. "He'll be staying with us."

"Another Nomad?" Tig shook his head.

Jax silenced any further complaints with a simple look. "Indiana? Come on, I need to go over a few things with you."

She nodded, and tore her eyes away from Happy. She felt Mac's hand slip from her as she walked along side Jax. He opened the black doors to Church and she stepped in first. He shut the door behind them.

"Is that something I need to be worried over?" Jax asked.

"I have no idea what you mean," Indiana replied, feigning ignorance.

Jax decided it would be best not to push. Happy would never risk the club over whatever animosity laid between him and Quinn's daughter. Plus, Jax didn't think Happy would appreciate it if he started meddling in his private business.

"Take a seat," Jax said as he sat at the head of the table. Indiana sat where Chibs usually did, just to his right. He pushed a file he had waiting on the table over to her. "This has all the copies of my paperwork for the Sons stakes in Diosa." He grabbed a second file and opened it before her. "Map and directions from here to your new place. Nero got his lawyer to put everything under her name so there isn't a link back to the Sons." He pointed to the second map. "Here's the directions from the house to Diosa."

"That will be very helpful," she said casting him a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Teller."

Jax shook his head at her professional manner. "Just call me Jax."

She nodded once again. "Alright, thank you, Jax."

"You're welcome."

A knock on the door broke conversation and Bobby stuck his head in. "Nero's here."

"Send him in," Jax requested.

Bobby nodded and a moment later Nero walked in. "She our girl?" Nero asked Jax.

Jax nodded. "Nero Padilla, meet Indiana Quinn."

Indiana stood and stuck out her hand. Nero smiled and took it giving it a firm shake. "You've got a good grip," he commented as he released her. "Are you done with her?" he asked Jax.

"Yeah, I gave her my paperwork."

Nero pulled a key from the pocket of his jacket and held it out. "To your new place. I'll let you get settled. Be in by eight tomorrow. Go to the front desk, Lyla will be there, she knows everything and will give you the tour and show you your office. Anything you need, you ask her and she'll get it."

"Got it," Indiana replied with a nod.

Nero couldn't resist. "Are you the one driving that neon green hatchback?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Indiana laughed. "Trust me, whatever you say about it, I've heard much worse."

"You might want to head out before someone takes note of that car being here," Nero said shaking his head. "Thing looks like it should glow in the dark."

Indiana nodded and held up the key in one hand, the folders the other. "I guess I have everything I need?" she looked to each of them in turn. "Alright," she said when neither said anything more. "I guess I'm free to go." She looked to Nero. "I will see you tomorrow, Mr Padilla, eight o'clock sharp." With that, she walked out.

She wanted to get out of the clubhouse as quick as possible. She didn't want to run into Happy. She didn't want to defend herself, nor her father's decision to send her to Charming. Of course, she should have known better than to think she could slip through unnoticed.

Naturally, Mac had been waiting. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his body. "This is it," he whispered.

She nodded and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "I'll see you when this is done."

He nodded, his hand slid behind her neck and his lips pressed against hers. She kissed him back, and quite certain that Happy's eyes were on her, she grabbed Mac's kutte and pulled him closer. She moaned just slightly into his lips before she drew away. She kissed his cheek, leaving behind a faint pink print. "Love you."

He just smiled in return.

She turned on her heel and her eyes found Happy's dark ones, his hand tightly gripping a glass of amber liquid. He sat at the bar, and she needed to pass him on her way out. Her eyes narrowed angrily at him as she got closer.

He didn't look like he had aged much, he still seemed dangerous and untouchable. She'd had a crush on him from the time her hormones kicked in during puberty. She'd tried to ignore it, tried to smother it. Ultimately, she could remember the scent of him as he kept her pinned with his body, she could remember the feel of his skin against her own, she remembered the pleasure he had brought her. Most importantly, she remembered passing him her heart and having him drop it from her fingertips, it shattered all over the floor in the one of the dorm rooms of Sanctuary and it had never been quite the same since.

Neither said a word, but something of years past flared back up as their eyes locked in a battle of wills. She looked away first and walked straight out the door. The sun warmed her skin, the fresh air filled her lungs and she felt a little steadier. Surely this would be the worst of it. She wouldn't even see Happy. She would work at Diosa in her little office, figure out the financials, and live in a little house by herself. With her little pep-talk complete she quickly walked toward her car ready to get started.

::

**Thank you for reading :D**


	7. New Girl

The small house stood proud. The white siding appeared new and the freshly painted door looked homey in a powder blue. The porch spanned the length of the house and two steps lead up to it. She removed the new key from her pocket and let herself in.

Open concept made the small home feel big. The door opened to the kitchen, fair sized, painted white cupboards and black countertops. No partition separated the kitchen and the living room, but the living room did sink in a step. A grey couch sat across from the wall mounted television. The coffee table had a couple of magazines sitting on it. She walked down the short hallway, bedroom to the right, bathroom to the left and linen closet at the end of the hall. Not much, but more than enough for just her.

She went back out to her Prius and grabbed her bag from the back and lugged the heavy case up the stairs and into the house. She deposited the bag in the bedroom and looked around. The bedroom was painted pale green, he queen sized bed had a sturdy cherry wood frame, lovely blue sheets and a plain white comforter. The large cherry wood dresser sat to the right, and a beautiful vanity sat between the two large windows. The place had class, she'd give it that.

The silence ate at her, she went back to the living room and turned on the television. She found a music station she liked and turned it up. She returned to the bedroom and begun unpacking. She hung up clothing from shopping sprees she'd gone on with Emily. Some garments were professional, others were pretty, and few were sexy. She tried to blow her bangs from her eyes with ineffective results. She held up a navy blue blazer with gold buttons. She liked it, even if it felt confining and stuffy. She grabbed a hanger and hung it up.

A slinky black dress had been a gift from Tink. _'Every girl needs a little black dress,'_ Tink had told her. She stuck it on a hanger and hung it up.

The shimmering red top had a deep v-neck and had been something Emily insisted she try on, and later, insisted she buy. The price tag still pierced the washing instructions.

Indiana pulled a red leather jacket out of her suitcase. It had been a hand-me-down from her eldest half-sister Brooklyn. Given Indiana's extra height the arms just barely reached her wrists, and the jacket cut off a good inch and a half before her hips. Her thumbs worried over the leather, and she sat down on the bed. She had two half-sisters, one she had never even seen a picture of, and Brooklyn. Brooklyn for a time had been in her life. Their relationship could be described as turbulent at best yet when push came to shove, she still loved her sister even if she hadn't seen her since she left Sanctuary five years previous. Pushing herself back to her feet, she grabbed a hanger and hung up the jacket.

She tried once again to blow her bangs out of her eyes with no avail and continued to unpack.

::

"You've been quiet," Angus said as he came around the couch and flopped down on it, his head landing on Emily's lap. "It's kind of freaking me out."

She gave him a smile and her hand immediately went to his dark, thick, unruly hair. "I'm just thinking."

"About Indie?" Angus inquired. He hadn't known Indiana as long as Emily, but he knew her long enough to see the changes in the once bubbling, energetic young woman. He loved Indiana, not like he loved Emily, but cared deeply for her. He worried about Indiana's mood swings, her days of silence before she bounced back. He especially worried since he witnessed her having a panic attack. After ten minutes of hyperventilating alternating to screaming at him to stay away she calmed down and then begged him not to tell anyone. He felt confident that Emily knew, but true to his promise to Indiana, he never told anyone.

He looked up at Emily. He didn't like seeing his Old Lady so down, so quiet, so unlike herself. He knew she'd inevitably bounce back, she always did. Emily nodded as her hand threaded through his hair and his green eyes shut, a little smile played upon his lips. "That feels nice," he commented.

"I'm just playing with your hair."

"I just like it when you touch me." His tone indicated lewd suggestion and she bit her bottom lip as she tried to keep a grin from escaping.

"I bet you do," Emily replied.

Angus's eyes opened once again. He reached up and caressed her cheek. "Indie's going to be just fine," he assured Emily. "You'll see her soon."

"Yeah," Emily replied still feeling melancholy. "I know."

"Want to go shower together?" He asked with a big grin.

"You just want to see me naked," Emily said with a long suffering sigh.

"No," he replied feigning innocence as he sat up and shifted so he could brush his nose against hers. "I want to see you naked _and_ wet, it's totally different."

She tried not to smile but couldn't help herself. His lips claimed hers as he shifted, he pulled her off the couch with him never breaking the kiss. His fingertips skimmed under her shirt. "Come on," he spoke against her lips. "Come with me."

The sexual implication wasn't lost on Emily and she jumped into his arms, her legs locking around his hips. A smile flirted on her lips, her worries took a back seat.

::

V-Lin did not want to be behind the counter of the bar that particular night at the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse. He didn't mind the bartending, considering the crap the Sons put him through, bartending didn't make the top ten on the 'worst job list.' His current reason for not wanting to be there sat across from him at the bar. Happy had drank too much and practically radiated rage. V-Lin just didn't want that barely contained fury to unleash on him.

Another shot knocked back and Happy slammed the empty glass down on the bar. Dark eyes flicked up to V-Lin. Part of him wanted to cut the enforcer off, but the reject of the Lin Triad had a good sense of self-preservation so he, against better judgement, filled the shot glass yet again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" V-Lin asked timidly as he fussed with cap to keep his hands busy.

Happy's dark eyes flicked up and seemed soulless.

"I'm going to take that as a no," V-Lin said barely managing to keep his voice even.

Happy swallowed the shot and slammed the glass down. He grabbed the bottle from the prospect's hands and took it with him as he walked out front.

V-Lin blew out a breath of relief.

::

Happy sat on the bench outside of the clubhouse with his half smoked pack of cigarettes and a quarter bottle of whiskey. He didn't care about the brand. He cared about how much alcohol he could get into his system. He took a deep drag off the cigarette and blew out an angry line of smoke.

Happy didn't think Indiana should be in Charming and she certainly shouldn't be working at Diosa. He shook his head. He could hardly believe that Quinn would send his youngest daughter to deal with this problem. For Indiana, Quinn had pulled everything together, balanced his life as an outlaw, business man and father. Happy couldn't question the Nomad President's loyalty to the club though, and he could only imagine how making the decision had effected Quinn, for he had no doubt that it had.

He took another drag from his cigarette and held it a moment before blowing it out. He remembered her blatant display in the clubhouse. He never thought about her being with someone, hell, he tried most of the time not to think about her at all. Seeing her with Mac, the way they kissed, the way her long, delicate fingers had clenched in his kutte sent an overwhelming surge of- anger, definitely anger because it sure as hell wasn't jealousy- through his system. The way she had stepped back and left behind that signature kiss print on Mac's cheek only made it worse. Like she had marked him, chosen him over-

Happy took another shot to burn away the way his thoughts were going. Who cared who made Indiana Quinn their Old Lady? He took another chug from the bottle trying to erase the sound of her moan that had carried across the room. He set the bottle down and took the last drag off his cigarette. She had met his gaze unflinchingly. It surprised him that her eyes still held the anger of years past. She'd walked past with an air of superiority and left behind the scent of that damn floral perfume with notes of sandalwood that she had preferred since her late teens.

The idea of her working at Diosa on the accounts worried him. Someone stole a lot of money from men with very powerful backing. If they made that choice, then they were either incredibly stupid, or highly dangerous with enough backing to make them feel safe. Happy didn't like the idea of Indiana around dangerous men. He tried to take another swig from the bottle but found it empty.

He stared at it angrily for a second before he threw the bottle and it smashed somewhere in the middle of the parking lot. Someone would be pissed about the broken glass, but surely the prospect would clean it up.

He would talk to Jax and see about picking up more shifts at Diosa. He tried to convince himself that he needed the money but even under the influence he knew that just as Indiana always had, she pulled the protective instinct out of him. He wanted to be at Diosa to keep an eye on her, he tried to tell himself he was just doing it for Quinn, he didn't succeed in convincing himself though. He absent-mindedly ran his thumb over the first of his smiley face tattoos.

He flicked the end of his cigarette and stood unsteadily. He waited a moment to regain his balance before he headed inside to crash in one of the dorm rooms.

::

Dressed in an orange tank top and an old pair of blue yoga pants that served as pajamas Indiana walked barefoot through the house locking the doors and checking the windows. She turned off the lights on her way back to the bedroom. She closed the door, stared at it a second and then opened it a crack. She blamed the habit on her father who always left it open a crack when she was young so he would better hear her if she needed him.

Grabbing her cell phone she walked to the outlet and plugged it into the charger. She opened the window a little bit and a gentle breeze carried the scent of gardenias from the garden. She turned off the overhead light and carefully walked to the bed in the dark. She laid down and pulled the blankets up to her chin and closed her eyes.

After a few minutes she rolled onto her stomach.

Feeling too warm, she kicked down the blankets.

She made a list of groceries in her head, she could pick them up after her first shift at Diosa. She didn't feel nervous about the numbers, but could admit feeling a little anxious about the entire situation.

She rolled onto her back and tried to blame her worries on Happy. She hadn't been expecting him to be in Charming and seeing him again had thrown her for a loop. The blame didn't stick.

Still feeling too warm, she removed the pajamas, she preferred to sleep naked anyway.

Now she felt cold.

"God damn it," she muttered sounding miserable to her own ears.

The house creaked and panic swept over her. "It's nothing," she whispered to herself. "It's nothing."

Unable to convince herself, she quickly put her pajamas back on and fumbled around in the dark until she managed to hit the light switch. Her eyes went to her purse that sat on the dresser. She quickly unzipped it and pulled out the gun. Upon hearing another creak her heart leapt to her throat. She opened the door and hit the hall light. Her eyes scanned both ways, no one. She looked in the bathroom, empty. She mustered her courage and walked into the open area of the kitchen and living room her hand hitting the switches and the entire place became illuminated. No one. Doors were all still locked, windows all shut.

"It's nothing," she said frustrated with herself. She hated being on her own. She'd lived with her parents, then with Emily, then Mac. Even when Mac went away, she either talked Emily into coming over or she went over to Emily and Angus's.

She returned to the bedroom and put the gun back into her purse. It knocked against the box of bullets and she only then remembered that the gun remained unloaded. Paranoia kept her from carrying her gun loaded, last thing she needed was the safety going off and something in her purse hitting the trigger. She'd die of embarrassment if the bullet didn't kill her. _Daughter of MC President accidentally shoots herself in the foot?_ Yeah, she'd never live it down.

She left the light on as she crawled back into bed.

::

Indiana dozed, she didn't sleep. By five she'd given up hope on any real rest and decided to get an early start. By five twenty her runners were hitting the sidewalk. She wore black jogging leggings with a blue line down the sides and a baby blue athletic tank, her MP3 player strapped to her arm.

Unfamiliar with the area she maintained a straight line for as long as she could. She jogged in place beside a stop sign. There were more residences to the right, as she looked to the left it looked like it went into the heart of Charming. She could remember driving this way from Teller-Morrow. She decided to continue down into the heart of the town.

She discovered that at quarter to six in the morning, Charming looked like a ghost town. The only thing open was a twenty-four hour diner. She jogged past Hoffman's Pharmacy and Floyd's Barber Shop.

The scent of bacon flagged her from across the street and her self-restraint wavered. She paused, usually she ran a lot longer but her stomach grumbled loudly in protest. She bounced from one foot to the other trying to make up her mind. She didn't have groceries and didn't like the idea of going into Diosa on an empty stomach. She decided she'd just run after her shift and crossed the street to the diner.

She sat in one of the red booths and turned off her music. A middle aged waitress walked over and put a menu down on the table. "You're new," she said.

"Ah, that obvious, huh?" Indiana smiled. "Just moved here."

"What for?"

"New job," Indiana replied.

"Hmh, I'd like to get me one of those," the woman muttered before walking away.

The door opened and an elderly man walked in. "Hi Anna," he said waving to the waitress.

"Chief," Anna nodded. "The usual?"

"That would be nice," the man replied, he stopped and looked at Indiana. "You're new."

"Does everyone know everyone here?" Indiana replied annoyance and amusement warring for supremacy.

"Pretty much," he replied extending his hand. "Wayne Unser."

She took his hand in hers. "Indiana," she replied and motioned to the seat across from her. "Care to join me. Since I'm new you can let me know what's good here."

Unser smiled and took a seat. "Can't go wrong with bacon and eggs."

"You've never seen my father in the kitchen then," Indiana replied jokingly.

::

Indiana had spent a little too much time at the diner talking to Unser. After running back she'd taken a quick shower, did bare minimum make-up and ran to her closet. She grabbed a green tank top, navy blue blazer with gold buttons and black slacks. She dressed quickly, nearly stumbled in the hallway due to her haste. She found professional looking black kitten heels and decided she could safely drive in them so she slid them on and ran out the door.

She made good time and parked in the back lot. She walked around to the front of the building figuring it would be easiest to find Lyla if she did. She opened the door and took a step in. The interior designers must have had a fabulous time, she though as she looked around. A man stood against the wall just blended, security, she figured. Longish hair, scar on his face. Another man stood on the other side of the room, tall, curly hair, wild blue eyes and it took a moment but she placed him from the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse. He caught her gaze and winked before turning away.

She took a deep breath. She recognized him from the clubhouse. _The clubhouse! _The Sons of Anarchy weren't just in business as a financial partner, they worked security too! Her stomach flipped nervously, if they all took turns it would only be a matter of time before Happy would be there.

She breathed in deeply and inhaled the scent from the large bouquet of flowers in the center of the room. The place was full of beautiful women in gorgeous dresses. She felt under dressed and unattractive in her boxy blazer. She told herself it didn't matter, she was an accountant after all, not an escort.

She walked over to the front desk and looked down at the knock-out blonde behind the desk. "Are you Lyla?"

"I am," Lyla responded looking up, she gave Indiana a warm smile. "You must be the new girl."

Only a few hours into the day but Indiana already felt annoyed with being the 'new girl.' She nodded. "Mr Padilla said you would show me around."

Lyla stood and looked to the guard who leaned against the wall to her right. "Primo, could you page me if anyone comes in? I have to show our new girl around."

Primo nodded but said nothing.

The building wasn't all that big and the tour didn't last too long. "This is your office," Lyla said opening the door with a key card before she handed it to Indiana. "And you key."

"Thanks."

The two girls walked in and the door automatically shut slowly behind them. The cramped office at least had a window, a desk, a book shelf, and two filing cabinets. A computer sat on the desk along with a calculator, pens and pencils and a phone.

"Nero said that copies of his documents are in here," Lyla informed her tapping the first filing cabinet. "I assume you brought the ones from Jax."

Indiana put the files for the Sons stake in Diosa on the desk. "I have," Indiana paused and assessed the other woman. "You're associated with both, that's why you're the one I'm to go with. They both trust you."

Lyla gave a sad smile. "Jax was the one who got me the job here." Her pager went off. "I have to go. If you need me just come to the front desk or hit pound three to call my desk."

"Alright, thanks Lyla."

"See you around," she responded as she walked out the door.

::

Indiana lost track of time when she worked. Math never let her down. One plus one would always be two. She grew up in a life that held no promises, no real consistency. With mathematics she got a problem, she knew the formula and she could find the solution. She set up spreadsheets, organizational charts, had a mess of notes that quickly messed up the desk that had been nice and neat before she got to it.

After eight hours at her desk she knew one thing, this mess would take a long while to figure out. She heard a knock at her door and went to answer it. Nero stood on the other side. "Just came to see how your first day went," he said strolling in. She shut the door behind him.

"This is going to take a while," she admitted.

He walked around the desk, she didn't mind, as a mathematician she always had to show her work. He whistled as he looked at the computer and then at all the notes. "_Chica_, this is impressive work." He looked at formulas that had more letters than numbers. "How long till you have this all worked out?"

"I've only gotten through the past month," Indiana admitted on a sigh. She wished she could have gotten more done.

Now that he could see her work, he had faith that Jax had found the right person for the job. "You'll figure it all out," he said giving her a smile. "I'm sure." He nodded his head to the door. "Shift change is now-"

"But I ca-"

"No buts," he said narrowing his eyes. "No one works more than eight hours a day, get out, go home."

She shook her head but smiled. "Alright, alright, I'm going."

When she left the blue eyed Son still stood in the same spot but he flirted with one of the escorts. She hugged her purse tighter remembering that it was time for a shift change, she walked faster as she left the building. She walked around the side of the building and saw a motorcycle parked. She took a deep breath and trudged on. A man in a kutte walked around the corner and her breath held for a second, he stood shorter than she did, Asian, prospect, _not Happy_, she let out a sigh of relief and shot him a friendly smile. He nodded his head just slightly as they passed one another.

::

**Thanks for reading :)**


	8. Broken Hearts

Early in the morning, Happy ran into Jax in the Teller-Morrow garage. "Pres," Happy called and Jax stopped. "I need a word."

Jax nodded. "Office," he said. The two men walked in from the side door and Gemma sat behind the desk going over the papers. "Hey," Jax greeted his mother and kissed her temple. "We need a minute."

Gemma's eyebrows went up a bit as she looked from her son to Happy. Happy wasn't exactly a big talker. She worried her son needed the enforcer for something big. Knowing that neither would let her in any way she just nodded and grabbed her purse. "Alright," she stood just as Chucky came in the door from the lot. She shooed him. "We're going for a break."

"As you wish," Chucky replied with a slight bow before following Gemma out.

Jax just shook his head at the man's strange behavioural patterns and shut the door. He turned around and studied the tattooed enforcer. "Well, what is it?" He asked curiously.

"I'd like more shifts at Diosa," Happy said straight to the point.

The President nodded his head just once as he gave the request some consideration. All of the guys liked working at Diosa, easy money and pretty girls. A week ago if Happy had come to him with the request, he would have assumed the man needed the money for his mother. Now, Jax wasn't so sure that was the motive. "This is about Indiana," Jax kept his poker face on and tried to get a read on Happy, but the man kept his face blank.

"I need the money," Happy said. A moment of silence passed as they stared at each other. Happy realized quickly that Jax didn't fully believe him. "I trust the guys," he started needing to ensure the Jax that trust was not the problem. "But it's Quinn's daughter."

Jax understood the kind of loyalty Happy had to Quinn, and by extension his family. "And you want to keep eyes on her? You exploded the last time you saw her."

Happy realized that Jax saw him as a potential problem and knew if he were to get more shifts at Diosa, Jax would need an explanation for his behaviour. "I watched her grow up, Jax. We had a bit of a falling out."

Jax watched the enforcer shift in his stance and it surprised him to see Happy fidgety.

"Her being in Charming and working at Diosa- I didn't see it coming," Happy admitted. "I'm betting Quinn isn't too happy about it."

Jax shrugged. Quinn had sounded agitated and worried over the phone but said nothing about it.

"I just want to keep an eye on her," Happy's low voice insisted. "For Quinn's sake."

Jax suspected there was more between Happy and Indiana, while he knew Happy would keep eyes on the young woman because he was such good friends with Quinn, Jax didn't believe that was the real motive. Still, who better to keep an eye on their asset? Jax didn't have any desire to make a call to Quinn explaining that something had happened to his daughter.

"Alright," Jax agreed. "I'll talk to Nero."

"Thanks brother," he replied turning to head back to the garage.

"Wait a second," Jax said stopping him. "I need a word with you."

Happy turned back around. "Yeah?"

"I still have to talk to Chibs, but I'm going to ask him when he gets in to be my V.P," he said. Now that Bobby had given up the position there was no one else Jax trusted who he thought would be suited to the responsibility of the advisory job. Jax trusted Chibs and had always gone to him for advice and thus been a natural choice. "That means I need a new Sargent at Arms." He looked pointedly at Happy.

For some time, Jax had watched as the club, the brotherhood, started to fall apart. Secrets were destroying the club. Jax, Chibs and Bobby were all keeping Juice's near suicide and rat status a secret but if they continued on this path the club would get tied up and choked to death on their own bullshit. Who better to keep them honest than a SAA who tolerated no nonsense, no secrets, and no indiscretions within the club.

Happy took a deep breath and blew it out. He had no desire to play club politics. He didn't strive to rise in the ranks, if he did he could have been the SAA in Tacoma some years back. He wanted badly to decline.

"I need you brother," Jax said aiming his blue eyes at his brother allowing a moment of vulnerability knowing his need would make Happy fold.

Happy tried to come up with an alternate solution that made sense. Tig could be crossed out, he knew that Jax would never take Clay's right hand man. Bobby had already distanced himself from the VP position. Happy didn't think that Phil couldn't stomach the job. Juice seemed too caught up in his own shit, besides he already had an important role as their intelligence officer. V-Lin still maintained prospect status. With numbers down, he realized he was the only logical choice.

"Shit," Happy muttered.

"Is that a yes?"

His teeth clenched and the muscle in his jaw jumped. "Yes."

Jax nodded with a proud smile. "I'll talk to Chibs. We'll take it to Church later tonight."

::

Indiana had a comfortable routine and it didn't differ much from Red Willow to Charming. She got up early and made herself breakfast before she went for her run. She did three miles that went straight through the heart of Charming, circled around through a quiet residential neighbourhood, and followed a lake through a small park and out the other side back around into her own temporary neighbourhood. She'd shower and dress professionally for work. She'd park her Prius in the back but go in the front.

She held her breath in worry that Happy would be in, but today a mohawked man with tattoos stood to the side keeping an eye on the girls. She stopped by the desk and say 'good morning' to Lyla before going to her office. The escorts all ignored her but she didn't mind. She didn't really want to stand out in a brothel anyway.

Her office already looked like a mess. She sighed and put her purse a chair before she walked around the desk and sat in her comfortable leather seat. She moved the calculator a little closer, and turned on the computer.

She worked steadily until noon and felt frustrated. She had noticed discrepancies between accounts, expenses and overall finances but couldn't figure out where the money had gone. Deciding to take a lunch break she left her office. She walked down the hall and into the break room. A fridge held fresh sandwiches, apples and bottles of water. She took one of each and sat at the table.

Another woman walked in and immediately went to the refrigerator. Indiana couldn't help but notice that they could have passed for sisters. While the other woman stood a little shorter, she had the same dark blonde hair, lightly tanned complexion, high cheekbones, and prominent lower lip. Their noses were different, as were their eyes, but the similarities stuck. The woman wore her hair shorter than Indiana, styled straight it went to the bottom of her shoulder blades, and Indiana's hit her lower back.

The woman looked over and raised an eyebrow. Indiana flushed realizing she'd been caught staring. "Hi, nice dress," she complimented. The dress in question fit like a glove, the plum purple matched the dark lipstick she wore.

"Thanks," she replied pulling free a bottle of water only before coming over and sitting down. "I have a client coming up soon who bought it for me." Indiana felt subconscious as the woman's green eyes looked her over. She wore a grey pant suit with a blue camisole, which she thought to be perfectly acceptable for an accountant. The woman raised an eyebrow. "You must work behind a desk."

"Accounts," Indiana muttered.

"I didn't know there were any women accountants working here."

"I'm new," Indiana replied on a sigh being sick to death of explaining her status.

"Ah," the woman nodded. "In that case, I'm Irina."

"Indiana."

Irina twisted the cap off of her water and took a small sip. "How are you enjoying the job?"

"It's good," Indiana replied. Growing up she'd learned to keep answers vague when it came to people you didn't know. After all, who knows what can be used against you.

Irina checked a dainty white gold watch on her tiny wrist. She blew out a breath and pushed her hair back. "I'm afraid I have to keep an uninteresting balding man company," Irina said. "See you around."

Indiana nodded and returned to her lunch.

Back at her desk Indiana realized some of her problem were forged documents. Some of the numbers she had been working with weren't correct and didn't match up with other documents. She blew out an annoyed breath. Someone was doing a pretty good job at hiding their trail. She hadn't expected the job to be easy, but she hadn't expected the clusterfuck that it had turned out to be.

She worked an hour over when Nero walked in using his master key to get in. "Lyla said that she hadn't seen you leave yet when she headed out," Nero shook his head as Indiana looked up from her stacks of notes and documents. "Go home, this mess will still be here in the morning."

Indiana stared at him and then back down at the numbers. She chewed on her bottom lip as her mind worked. "Mr Padilla, could you get me daily statements?"

"Sure," Nero responded as he leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. "How far back?"

"Since you opened."

His mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

"Afraid so," Indiana grimaced. "I can keep working back but if they made a big slip-up likeliest time would be in the beginning. It might make this search go a little faster." She decided not to tell Nero about the forged documents, she wanted to talk to the other accountants and feel them out herself first.

"Yeah," Nero pushed back some of his hair. "I'll get it from the bank first thing in the morning."

"Thanks," Indiana returned her gaze to the calculator.

"Go home."

Indiana sighed but smiled. "Going."

Nero waited so she didn't have much of a choice but to leave. She grabbed her purse from the chair on the other side of her desk and pulled it over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow," she said.

"Good night," he replied pulling the door to her office closed behind himself.

Indiana walked down the hall, she smiled at Irina who spoke with a potential client, she gave Indiana a wink in return and it likely also snagged the man as well. Lyla had already gone home for the night and a gorgeous dark skinned woman sat behind the desk answering calls and booking appointments.

One of Nero's men, a tall, fair haired man with tattoos stood by the front desk. On the other side of the room the mohawked man had been replaced. Indiana froze in her tracks under the hard look in Happy's eyes.

She straightened up, kept her eyes glued to the door and walked past him refusing to further acknowledge his existence. She could practically feel his gaze on her back when she walked by and she breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed between them.

::

Emily finished up with her final client of the day and went to her desk. She pulled her pocket book from her desk and unzipped it to pull out her phone. She pressed the power button and left the cellphone on her desk while she turned to her computer to check the appointments for the next day. Her phone beeped with each backlogged incoming message or call. After nine she picked up her phone worriedly as it continued to sound.

A few missed messages was normal. A flood of missed calls sent off Emily's alarm bells. Her heart rate kicked up as she looked at the list. Each of the phone calls had come from Indiana's cellphone. With her hand shaking she managed to hit the 'talk' button before she put the phone up to her ear.

The three rings were three of the longest seconds of her life.

_"Em?" _

"Are you okay," Emily's words came out in a rush. "Honey, is it another-"

_"I'm fine,"_ Indiana's words were snippy, and Emily could hear a simmering anger waited to boil over.

Emily took a moment to take a deep breath and find her centre. "You called me fourteen times," Emily said keeping her voice soft and soothing. "Something is clearly bothering you."

The silence, Emily knew, was consideration. Indiana had a habit of boxing things up. Being an old lady, Emily understood the need to keep things on a need to know basis and to keep secrets. Being a therapist she also knew that those secrets could ultimately take a big toll.

_"Happy is in Charming." _

It sounded as if the words came through clenched teeth. Emily took in a deep breath, and held it for a full four seconds before she slowly released it. Unable to come up with a decent response, she did it again. She pushed her dark waves from her face. "I thought you said-"

_"That he patched Tacoma? He did, but,"_ Indiana muttered angrily under her breath and Emily assumed her friend was cursing a blue streak. _"But it's quite apparent that he transferred. He's got Redwood Original on his kutte. I mean, I never asked about him after he left. I tried to just forget about him, to leave it in the past and move on."_

"You're working at Diosa," Emily said keeping her voice calm and even.

_"Yeah, and the Sons provide protection. Today was the first time I saw him there." _

Emily ran her free hand through her dark wavy hair. "Christ," she muttered under her breath. Last thing she wanted was for Indiana to get twisted up over Happy again. Then again, maybe a confrontation was what she needed to put it all to rest. "How do you feel about that?"

_"How do I- how do I_ feel_ about it? Are you kidding me, Em? He's here and,"_ Indiana huffed out a breath but didn't continue.

"And what, Indie?" Emily pried. "You're angry, I can tell but is it because he is there or is it because you were blindsided?"

_"Because,"_ Indiana replied but faltered, a moment of silence followed.

"It's okay to feel hurt, he broke your heart."

_"That was seven years ago_," Indiana responded her tone crisp and cold. _"I'm over it."_

"Clearly not or you wouldn't be reacting this way."

_"What is that supposed to mean?" _Indiana asked, her voice pitched with a hint of indignation.

"Indie-"

_"Don't, just don't, okay?_ _I'm over Happy. In fact, there was never anything there to get over in the first place. We were never together-"_

"You two had se-"

_"I know! And that's it, we were together for a moment, nothing more than a one night stand. People do not get all emotional and hurt when they see someone from a one night stand." _

"Okay, what you two did was not a one night stand," Emily argued. "Your heart was in it and it got broken."

_"Seven fucking years, Em. I'm with Mac now."_ Silence lingered over a moment. _"So why does it still hurt so much to see him? Why do I still wish that things could go back to the way they used to be between us?"_ she asked sounding like she was in physical pain.

Emily hated to hear her friend so distraught. "Because you love him, Honey."

_"I love Mac,"_ she said like it was some kind of defense.

"You do," Emily conceded. "But it doesn't mean that you ever stopped loving Happy."

_"I wish I could."_ Indiana whispered it so low that Emily almost missed it.

A minute passed in complete silence.

_"I should make dinner,"_ Indiana muttered. _"I'll talk to you later."_

"Okay," Emily responded softly. "Love you to tits."

_"Yeah,"_ Indiana replied and Emily could hear the smile, however fleeting, in her voice. _"Love you too, Em." _

_::_

_Thanks for reading :)_


	9. Up In The Air

Ally Lowen waited in the hallway of the women's low-security prison. As expected, Tara would be released. Now that she had tied up the Tara Knowles case, Ally allowed her mind to worry over why the hell Lee Toric would make such a reckless move. Surely he knew Tara wouldn't actually be convicted because of the circumstantial evidence.

Really, Lee Toric was a club problem, not hers. The mystery puzzled her, worried her. Being an associate of the club left her isolated from law colleagues who would shoot her dirty looks or run their mouths and she didn't have much time to dedicate to any real social life. She got caught up in club business, knew the ins and outs of the club. The Sons of Anarchy were the closest thing she had to friends or family and that made Toric her problem personally even if it managed to stay off her professional desk.

Footsteps had her pulling away from the wall, her tailored navy blue skirted suit gave her a confident edge. Tara and a guard came around the corner. Tara had her hair cut to chin length and it reminded Ally of when Jax came out of prison with his hair cut short.

Tara let out a sigh of relief when her eyes met with Ally's, and the lawyer gave her an assuring smile. The guard opened the door between them and Tara hugged the other woman causing Ally to take a step back in surprise. She laughed. "Hello Tara."

"Sorry," Tara released the lawyer with a sheepish smile. "I just… I guess it didn't seem like I was really getting out of here until I saw you."

Ally looked the young woman over looking for cuts or bruises but found no indication of any fights. "You've lost weight," Ally noted as she looked at the boot-cut blue jeans and white tank top that had been from Tara's own closet.

Tara shrugged. "Food isn't so great here," she muttered.

"Don't worry," Ally said. "Gemma's throwing a big shindig."

"Fuck that," Tara nearly growled angrily causing the guards to look their way.

Ally shot the guards a winning smile before putting her arm over Tara's shoulders to lead her further down the hallway toward the exit. "Do I need to know something?"

"She threatened to go to the cops," Tara admitted keeping her voice low. If she couldn't talk confidentially to her lawyer, then she truly was alone.

"She's the one who brought you Luann's cross," Ally murmured and Tara nodded. "She isn't part of the ride party."

"She's impossible," Tara whispered stopping at the door to the outside world. Being inside she could see some benefits. No Gemma Teller-Morrow for instance. She shook her head, there had once been a time where she felt love for Gemma, respected her, learned from her, admired her fighting spirit. It scared her some days when she realized just how much they could be alike.

Tara felt apprehensive about taking her first steps back outside. Right before being arrested she'd told Jax that she was taking the boys and moving. The job offer had been taken from the table upon the hospital's discovery that she had been arrested. Prison time didn't look good for doctors. How could she take the boys and move with no job? Her hands trembled with nerves.

"No argument there," Ally replied. "She's a force of nature."

Tara nodded and looked apprehensively at the door. "I spent my time in here thinking but I still have no idea how to handle everything that is beyond this door."

Ally stood a little straighter. "You're Jackson Teller's Old Lady, you're a mother to two beautiful boys, you are intelligent and you are strong. The men of this club adore you, trust in Jax he loves you."

Tara turned and looked up at Ally. "I was going to take the job offer in Oregon," she confessed. "I was going to take the boys and move there, I told Jax that if he loved us he would follow us there." She looked to the ground and focused on her breathing as she did her best not to end up in tears. "This club poisons everything," her eyes flicked back up to meet Ally's. The thought of Wendy who'd come in to her office the day after Jax had drugged her plagued her mind. She had a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that her husband was capable of such a thing.

"Jax will keep you safe."

Tara shook her head slightly. She loved Jax with all her heart, but if the club didn't get him killed, the chair would take his soul.

"Come on," Ally said waving to the guards and the door buzzed as it unlocked. "Time to go."

Tara took her first steps out to see a line of shiny black motorcylcees and a big black van waiting for them. The sun beat down on her face but the air remained defiantly cool. She shut her eyes. If she didn't get out of Charming she feared she'd end up in a body bag or she'd end up just like Gemma and she wasn't sure which ending she considered to be worse. She opened her eyes again and looked out at the men as she walked toward them.

Jax walked to meet her. Despite how they left things he welcomed her with open arms and she walked right into them, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist as her head rested against his heart. He held her tightly his cheek against the top of her head. For all her fears, she still felt safe in his arms, she still felt some hope that they could stand against the world and come out on top. She pulled back a bit and his lips met hers, soft and sweet. "I've missed you," he whispered against her lips. She nodded, not trusting her voice. "Let's get you home. Our boys miss you too."

She bit back a sob at the mention of her boys, her heart twisting. She nodded eagerly and followed Bobby and Ally to the van.

::

"We have a few things to vote on," Jax filled her in vaguely as they stood in the middle of the Teller-Morrow parking lot. "I'll fill you in later, Lowen will give you a ride home."

"Who's looking after the boys?" Tara asked her heart beating a little faster than normal.

"Lyla," Jax replied. His hand went to his wife's much shorter do, a little smirk took over his face. "She looks forward to seeing you. Play nice."

Tara nodded and kept her lips pressed tightly together. She wanted time with her husband, to go home as a family, to talk, to work through their issues. The club always comes first. She hadn't approved of Lyla's career choices, but couldn't fault the woman who had stepped up to take care of the two children from her short, faulty marriage- she loved them and took care of them as her own.

Jax's hands ran through her hair and clasped around the base of her neck. His blue eyes met her darker ones, the intensity of his gaze held her captive. "I love you."

Those three words from him still had the power to make her knees tremble. The depth of his love, of his devotion to her could be startling at times. The depth of her own love matched, there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for him. Trying to move him from the club was a decision she made very much for him. She didn't want to pull him from something he loved, but she did want to pull him away from something that could get him prison time, or killed, or maybe worse- the gavel could corrupt him in the way it did Clay. She shuddered at the thought.

Clearing her mind, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed her husband lightly. There would be a time for passion, for the sexual needs that had been under lock and key since her arrest would be unleashed. The Teller-Morrow parking lot at mid-day was not that time. "I love you," she whispered in return.

::

"Church!" Jax shouted at the boys as he moved through the clubhouse. He tossed his prepaid on the pool table and the rest of the men did the same as they filed into the room and sat around the redwood table.

Ratboy had been loaned out to Tacoma. He had a cousin who patched SAMTAC and had been requested for a long run. Now that he had returned to Charming he sat in the room with the rest of the patched brothers and his fellow prospect, V-Lin.

Jax didn't want to draw the night out. He wanted to be home with his family, with his wife that had just been released from prison. "First, I've asked Chibs to be my V.P. Everyone cool with that?"

The table came alive with noise that announced the agreement of the Sons.

Jax held the badge as he stood and hugged Chibs. The man had already been his advisor for years, had always been someone that Jax felt comfortable enough with to go to for advice. Chibs drew back and gave him a smile before taking his new seat at the left side of the table.

"You can't be without a Sargent at Arms," Filthy Phil pointed out the obvious.

"And I won't be," Jax replied his eyes turning to Happy- who still looked less than pleased about being maneuvered into the position. "I've asked Hap to fill the spot."

Once again the men around the table started to congratulate their brother, excited about the changes being made.

Tig smiled and clasped a hand over Happy's shoulder. "Good spot for ya, Killa."

Happy just nodded. He stood took the new patch, hugged Jax and took his new seat to the President's right. His thumb ran over the worn badge, a small smile found its way to his face at the excitement around the table. It had been a long while since the Charming boys had seemed in such good spirits.

"Two more orders of business," Jax looked over at the prospects. "What do we think boys?"

The votes on Ratboy and V-Lin were both unanimous. The two men couldn't look more pleased about finally being fully patched members.

Jax shifted as he stared down at Mac who sat comfortably at the far end of the table. He didn't like having anyone patched as 'Nomad' around. "And what do we all think about this one," he said nodding his head at Mac.

Mac's green eyes scanned the table to find all eyes on him. He knew that there would be hostility and he tried to navigate through it. "Look, I know you are all a bit wary of Nomads after the shit that Frankie, Go-Go and Greg did. I get it, I do but I'm not them. You sit at this table with a former Nomad, even promote him."

Happy cut his eyes toward Mac. The kid had grown up in the past seven years, had some balls considering the way he didn't just address the table but his presence commanded it.

"Watch it," Happy warned.

"You trust Quinn," Mac no longer addressed the entire table, his eyes were on Happy's refusing to back down. "You really think I'd be with his 'baby girl' if he didn't trust me?"

Happy hated it when someone came at him with irrefutable logic on a subject he really wanted to shoot down.

"Hap?" Jax's voice was quiet but it got Happy's attention.

Happy looked over at the president who raised an eyebrow. Obviously, he wanted Happy's input. Part of him really just wanted to send Mac away, he shoved that part down, buried it and refused to look at the reasons why. He looked over at Jax and gave a small, but sharp nod of his head.

"All in favour?"

The table was quieter, but the answer was just as unanimous.

Mac was patched Redwood Original.

::

Jax wanted to skip out, but the patch-in party was impossible to get away from. He figured he could spend a few hours, unwind, grab a beer, skip the pussy, and get home to his family.

The new patches were living it up. Ratboy had his face buried in a fine set of tits. V-Lin couldn't walk a straight line if you paid him.

Mac was quieter, already content in his fully patched status- the move didn't seem to make him want to celebrate. He had a couple empty beers, one half full in his hand. He flirted with a croweater who sat with him but thus far had brushed off her advances and only seemed to want company.

Jax found Happy, he sat at the bar though he kept an eye on Mac. "Was it the right call?" Jax briefly wondered if his newly instated SAA was doubting himself but knew deep down that wasn't the case. Happy didn't doubt himself, he had conviction to make the right calls. Jax felt certain that doubt wasn't the issue. He sat on a stool beside Happy.

"Quinn trusts him," Happy replied shortly before tossing back a shot.

Jax pushed a hand through his blonde hair and looked over at the new brother. "But do you?"

Did he? That question tormented Happy. During his time as a Nomad, he did trust Mac at his back, all the Nomads did. Quick thinker, excellent with a gun, good guy to have with you on a run. The only reasons he even considered trying to put Mac down at the table were entirely personal. Happy wanted back into Denialville where he didn't have to think about these things. Every situation that came up recently only managed to magnify the past, his actions and the repercussions.

"Hap?"

"He's solid," Happy replied finally.

Jax nodded with a further sense of understanding. Now more than ever he felt comfortable in his assumption that something had once gone on between Happy and Indiana.

Having no desire for further conversation, Happy grabbed his cigarettes off the bar and left the clubhouse without another word to anyone. He'd already received a call from Nero and had an early morning shift at Diosa anyway.

::

"Oh my God!" Trinity shrieked before she succumbed to a fit of giggles. Laughter came from the other side of the shelf where Kerrianne stocked the candy aisle of Ashby's Provisions.

"That's what I said," Cherry said from her perch on the counter beside the till. She dusted some ashes of the cigarette she'd smoked on break off her black smock. "Here I was thinking I had hit the jackpot with this smokin' hot firefighter-"

Kerrianne snorted. "Pun intended?"

"No, and not the point," Cherry laughed a little. "Anyways, instead I'm just staring at the pink lace thong over his bulge and-"

"Oh my God, oh my God," Trinity held her sides as pain went through them from laughing so hard. "You can't be serious!"

"As a heart attack," Cherry replied. "Which I nearly had."

"Did you still sleep with him?" Kerrianne asked as dumped the Soor Plooms into a plastic bin, a scoop and little bags nearby and the green candies.

"No, I can't take a man seriously with his junk in lace," Cherry replied which just caused another bout of giggling from the young Irish women. Cherry enjoyed the night shift ever since Maureen let up and let the three of them work together. They got all the stocking done, and they had a good time doing it too.

"How did you get out of there?" Trinity wanted to know as she broke a box down and folded it up for the recycling.

"I faked menstrual cramps," Cherry replied causing another burst of laughter from the younger women. "Nothing freaks a man out worse than a woman on the rag." Cherry pushed off from the counter and walked around to finish stocking the last box of cigarettes. "What about you ladies?"

Both Kerrianne and Trinity turned to look at Cherry questioningly. "You two and men, come on, you guys have to have a story or two to tell."

"Nothing of interest," Trinity said in a nonchalant fashion, but her cheeks stained pink.

"Oh, I think it is very much of interest," Cherry responded as she pulled the packs of cigarettes from the box and put them up on the back wall. "Come on, spill it. We're all girls here."

"No way," Trinity protested. "I had a boyfriend once, it lasted like a week but then McGee found out and he scared the crap out of the guy." Trinity still missed her mother's Old Man. She had never called him 'Da' but he had been all she had.

"That is so not what is causing that blush!" Cherry accused.

"Did you ever have a guy you though it would work with?" Kerrianne asked Cherry to take the heat off of Trinity. The blonde woman shot her friend a thankful smile.

Cherry became quiet and her movements as she stocked the cigarettes slowed. "Yeah," she whispered finally. "I did."

"Liam?" Trinity asked.

Cherry shook her head and sighed as she thought about Kip and the short time they'd shared. "How about you Kerri?" Cherry put a smile back on her face as she pushed the thoughts of her former lover aside. "Someone special? Some hot one-night-stand? An adventure to a strip-club? Something?"

Kerrianne had finished with the candy aisle so she walked to the counter and leaned her hip against it. "No."

"No? You're what? Eighteen?"

"Nineteen," Kerrianne corrected. "Twenty in a few more months."

"And?"

"And I grew up with Jimmy O'Phelan," Kerrianne replied through clenched teeth. The thought of the man still made her seethe. "No dating. No going out. No fun, really."

"So, there was no making out with some boy at school?" Cherry pried.

"No," Kerrianne replied.

"No sneaking out?" Cherry tore up the box and tossed it toward the recycle bin. It missed and Trinity picked it up and put it in.

Kerrianne answered with just the narrowing of her eyes and the aura of annoyance.

"_Girl,_" Cherry drawled out the word. "I have got to hook you up!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes, come on, what's your type?"

"I don't have a type."

"Everyone has a type," Cherry argued.

"She has a thing for tattoos," Trinity offered.

Kerrianne glared at her fair haired friend. "Whose side are you on?"

Trinity shrugged. "Got another four hours of this shift, it might as well be interesting."

"Tattoos, I know lots of guys with tattoos," Cherry said propping her elbows on the counter, her head in her hands. "You are into men, right?"

"Yes, I like men," Kerrianne felt her annoyance rise. She'd go and work elsewhere but the back room was tidy, the shelves were stocked, front had been swept, there wasn't much left to do.

"Okay, what else?" Cherry asked.

Kerrianne gave a shrug. "I don't know."

"Hispanic," Trinity whispered and quickly jumped out of the way as Kerrianne went to swat her. Trinity laughed. "Come on, it's Cherry."

"Yeah, it's just me," Cherry chimed excitedly. "Tell me what it is that Trini knows!"

Kerrianne huffed out a breath, despite being the youngest of the three she felt the most mature. "It's nothing, Trini is blowing smoke."

"I amn't!" Trinity responded with her chin up a little. "When the Redwood charter of the Sons came she might have had her eye on a certain Son."

"Oh," Cherry's eyes lit up as she put together the hints Trinity had dropped. "Juice? Really?"

"Why do you tack a _'really' _after that," Kerrianne paced a few steps and ran her hands through her hair. "So I think he's attractive," she glared daggers at Trinity. "It's not like I think we'd ever get together or anything. I'm not stupid. I just told Trini that I think he's got a nice smile and he's really sweet and-" Kerrianne trailed off under the gazes of her two smiling friends. "Piss off," she grumbled.

"You, my darling, have a crush on your father's friend," Cherry informed her. She put her fingertips to her temples dramatically. "I foresee a secret torrid affair, quick glances, and steamy stolen moments-"

"Lay off!" Kerrianne crossed her arms at the end of her patience. She loved Cherry dearly, but the woman could be absolutely impossible at times.

Cherry stuck out her tongue but let her hands fall back to the counter. "Fine, but you know- Jimmy's dead. You can do what you want."

Kerrianne's stomach twisted. Jimmy being dead didn't stop the feeling that something still lingered in the darkness.

::

Thanks for reading :)


	10. Lost Souls

Tara had to admit, Lyla had skills in the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind," the blonde seemed nervous now, fluttering around in the Teller kitchen. "The kids were hungry, and I figured since you were coming I'd make a whole bunch." The pot roast made Tara salivate, carrots and little potatoes created a little nest in the roasting pan.

"Not at all," Tara replied, licking her lips. "It smells wonderful." She knew when to let something to, when to give thanks where it was due. "Thank you for doing this Lyla. Jax told me you've been a big help with the kids."

Lyla's smiled shyly. "No big deal," she replied with the smallest shrug of her tiny shoulders. "It was the least I could do with all that's been going on with the club."

Getting a bit of information before Jax returned would give Tara an edge, it would allow her to know what to expect and give her some time to deal with it. "Like what?" Tara asked as she opened the first cupboard and pulled down some plates to help. Ally took them from her with a smile and started to set the table.

Lyla and Ally shared a look. "How about we leave that until everyone has eaten," Ally said looking over to where Abel stood watching the women in the kitchen with keen interest. He had kept Tara in his sights since the glorious moment she walked back into the Teller house. "Little ears," she whispered.

Tara nodded and looked over at Abel. God, she loved her boy- biological or not. She extended her hand and he took it as a signal that he could come into the kitchen. He walked over to her and hugged her leg, her hand went over his soft blond hair. "Hey there, Handsome."

"I missed you, Mom," he professed for the fourth time since Tara's return.

"I missed you even more," Tara replied bending down so she could kiss the top of his head. "I hope you were good for your father, and for Lyla."

"I was," Abel said shooting her a winning smile that mirrored that of Jax. God, the kid would be a heartbreaker just like his daddy.

Piper didn't request permission to the kitchen, he just silently walked over to his mother and grabbed her hand, his body almost hidden from the others behind her lithe body. Lyla turned to her son who looked up at her.

Tara couldn't help but notice the shocking similarities between mother and son. Same fair hair, Pipers shaggy cut nearly hid his ears. Blue eyes that took everything in, but shied away from direct eye-contact with anyone but his mom. They were a beautiful pair.

"You okay?" Lyla said quietly to him.

He nodded.

Tara couldn't recall ever hearing the boy speak. "Hi Piper," she said kindly hoping to sound friendly to the very shy boy.

He hid his face against his mother's leg, his fingers tightening around Lyla's.

"Don't be such a baby, Piper," Ellie said coming in.

"Be nice," Lyla warned the eldest of Opie and Donna's children. Ellie had been a quiet and rather withdrawn child up until her father's death- and then she'd turned angry and moody.

Ellie just shot Lyla a disdainful look and rolled her eyes. "Is dinner done?"

"Yes," Lyla replied. She looked to where Ally was taking out the silverware. She returned her gaze to Ellie. "Could you help Ally set the table, please?"

"Why don't you do it?" Ellie shot back, her voice heated with anger.

Tara hadn't seen much of Ellie since the death of Opie, and was surprised by the attitude from the once quiet and sweet girl. Then again, Ellie wasn't such a little girl anymore, she was growing up. Twelve? Thirteen? Tara couldn't remember. She'd started to wear makeup, her eyes dark and smoky. Her big t-shirts and straight legged jeans had been traded up to some band t-shirt and bootlegged jeans, boots on her feet. Her hair no longer styled in braided pig-tails but in a serious, pin-straight ponytail.

Lyla let out a small sigh. "Ellie, please."

Tara noted that Lyla sounded tired, worn out, like this happened all the time and she just didn't know what to do about it.

"You're not my mother," Ellie said through clenched teeth, and from the look on Lyla's face, she might as well have slapped the woman.

"Ellie!" Tara shouted in surprise. "Help Ally with the silverware. Now!"

It was Ellie's turn to look surprised, she blinked a few times, huffed out a breath and then yanked the forks from Ally's hand and went to set them beside each plate.

"I can help," Kenny said from where he stood by the counter. He stood tall, didn't wait for someone to ask, he just saw what needed to be done and took charge. He walked over to Ally and held out his hand, she carefully gave him the knives and he walked them over to the table to help his sister.

_He's just like Opie_, Tara couldn't help but notice. She turned back to Lyla whose cheeks had flushed to a pink colour. Piper, as if sensing his mother's inner turmoil, rubbed his cheek against her hand. Lyla gave him a soft smile and ran her hand over his hair. "It's okay," she said softly. "It will all be okay."

::

After everyone had eaten their late dinner, Ally offered to wash the dishes. Tara put on a child friendly movie for Kenny, Abel and Piper. Ellie had her nose in some teenage-angst ridden book of supernatural creatures. She held Thomas close and carried her son to his nursery to put him down for the night. She hummed to him, ran her hand over his dark blonde hair. Every time she saw him, the hair seemed a little darker. While Abel heavily took after Jax, Thomas it seemed took more after her. His hair kept getting darker, his brown eyes curiously studied the world around him, and even the shape of his nose and lips took more after her than her husband. Secretly, she was glad.

She liked seeing herself in her son. Hoped that he would be smart and brave and know right from wrong. She hoped that he would know it better than she did- or didn't. After what happened with Otto, she just didn't know if she fell under any of those categories. You could be intelligent and make stupid decisions. You could be brave and still manage to be a coward. You could know right, and only do wrong.

She stood with him by the crib but didn't put the sleeping baby down. She wanted to hold him for just a while longer. In her peripheral vision she saw Lyla in the doorway and turned slightly.

"He looks like you," Lyla mentioned, her voice delicate and soft.

"I think so too," Tara admitted and bobbed her head slightly in invitation.

Lyla walked in and while standing beside Tara, she looked down at Thomas. "He's so peaceful with you. He never wanted to go to bed for me. He just kept looking around, fighting off sleep." She remained silent for a moment. "I think he was looking for you."

Tara's heart clenched and she kissed her son's temple. "I won't leave you again," she promised him. She finally set her boy down in his crib and walked out but left the door just slightly ajar.

The two women rejoined Ally who had suds up to her elbows as she finished off the last of the dishes. "So, what has been going on since I've been gone?" Tara asked as she walked to the end of the kitchen and looked into the living room, thankful to see the kids engrossed in the movie.

"Diosa is in trouble," Ally said quietly, she rinsed a plate and set it in the drying rack. "A lot of money was stolen. It's cutting into SAMCRO's profits."

"Jax called around to other charters for help," Lyla continued where Ally left off. "Neither he nor Nero wanted to make anyone suspicious so they brought in a woman. Around here, no one would know she's affiliated with the club."

Tara shook her head. Cara Cara, Diosa, what next? Porn studio to brothel. Legitimate income, sure, but it didn't feel any cleaner than the gun money.

"She hasn't found out who it is yet," Lyla said taking a seat at the dining table. "The fact that they managed to get through Nero isn't something that he's taking lightly either. He's pissed. He wants to find this guy," Lyla's eyebrows drew down slightly. "Or girl." She shrugged. "In any case, she's trying to figure it out."

"Someone wants to either hurt Nero and his crew, or Jax and his," Ally said rinsing the last dish. She pulled the plug and the water started to circle the drain. "In any case, that kind of financial loss to the club is unwelcome. Especially now."

"Why 'especially now,'" Tara asked.

Ally grabbed a dish towel and dried her hands before hanging it back over the handle of the oven. "While the contract for Charming Heights is being honoured, they've lost the Irish pipeline. Galindo cartel was handed over to the Lin Triad. For a charter that specializes in running guns they aren't running much of anything."

Tara knew enough to read between the lines. No guns from the Sons meant a lot of angry clients. "They haven't set up another pipeline?"

Ally shrugged. "I haven't been made aware of it, then again, I'm often only pulled in for legal issues. It's entirely possible that they have."

Her loyalty to the club, to Jax had put Tara in a bad place. She wanted more for them, for their sons. Being in prison, the Oregon offer stripped from the table, she realized the true consequences of her actions, how they damned her, how they trapped her. There was no way she could leave with the boys now, there was no way she would be able to get a place to stay, pay for sitters while she worked. The hospital had been a good deal, money, benefits, child care.

A great deal of time in prison had been spent thinking. Jax wouldn't leave, couldn't leave. His roots had dug too deep, his blood belonged to SAMCRO. If she left- he wouldn't follow. If she took the boys- he'd come for them, and God help her because after he once lost Abel there would be absolutely nothing, not even her, that would keep him from his sons. That left her with one viable option.

Step up as his Old Lady.

::

"And take Juice with you," Jax said and put up a hand before Chibs could so much as part his lips to speak. They stood in the backroom, the music playing in the clubhouse was muffled by the door. "Whatever shit is between you two, sort it. This club is falling apart! Diosa took a hit. We lost the pipeline. This fucking charter is falling apart and we both know it, both see it." He let out an annoyed breath and pulled out a cigarette from his pack. Lighting up he took a deep inhale trying to let the smoke calm him. "The other brothers see it to. We don't fix the brotherhood and we'll be slitting our throats from the inside out."

Chibs couldn't argue with the observation. The Sons of the Redwood Original charter were hardly treading water. Funds ran dangerously low. Enemies dangerously high. Anymore tension within the brotherhood and it could spell death for SAMCRO.

He had no idea how he could possibly fix things with Juice, but this was Jax- friend, brother and president asking him too. "Fine."

::

Darkness shrouded the street. Neighbourhood hooligans had taken to busting out the streetlights with stones. Homes were small and lacked anything fancy. Trees were tall, sturdy, old- no one bothered planting anything new. Shrubs were left unmanaged and wild. This was a neighbourhood that two kinds of people called home- the poor and the desperate.

Lyla figured she could be called both.

She worked hard, took all the hours she could get at Diosa but couldn't manage to get ahead. Nero had helped her get clean of the cocaine addiction she'd had during her time working under Luann Delaney. Still; the mortgage, child care, school supplies, and food- it all added up.

She hit her blinker and slowed her vehicle before pulling into the small driveway. "Home at last," she said shooting a smile over at Ellie who sat up front with her.

Ellie just stared. "Keys?"

Lyla passed them to her and Ellie escaped from the car as though her jeans were on fire. Kenny got out too, following behind his sister. Lyla got out and went to the back door opening it and unbuckling her sleeping son.

She heard the door to the house open, light flooded the windows and the door slammed. Ellie. Door slamming was always Ellie.

She moved to pick Piper up but a strong hand grabbed her forcefully by the upper arm, turned her around and shoved her up against the trunk of her vehicle. A big hand closed around her mouth and muffled her scream.

::

For all the teasing the guys did about his computer games, it wasn't all that Juice did in his off time. He'd spent an hour working out, took a quick shower, and got dressed again in jeans. The heat in his sparse little house ensured that he didn't bother with a shirt. He grabbed the large novel off the counter in the kitchen and flipped to the page he'd marked with a gas receipt.

Starting back into the book where he left off, he reached out blindly and grabbed the fridge handle. He paused a moment in mild surprise by the latest character development, his lips moving as he read. Finally he pulled the door open. The cool air caressed his bare chest and he sighed. He tore his eyes from the text, grabbed a bottle of beer and kicked the fridge door shut.

He padded barefoot through the kitchen to the living room. His television sat on a coffee table but didn't have cable. A DVD player sat on the floor beside a XBOX360, cords wound their way around. The set up was an eye-sore but Juice didn't have a knack for decorating. Functionality was all that mattered.

The bottle pressed against the back of his neck and a drop of condensation ran down his spine till it absorbed into the couch cushion. He shot a quick look of ire toward the air conditioning unit that had decided the night before that it simply no longer had a fuck to give about keeping the place cool. "Piece of shit," Juice muttered before his eyes returned to his book. He fumbled a bit, trying to hold the book to his leg with his elbow as he twisted off the cap to his beer. He took a refreshing swig, and then gulped down half the bottle before putting it on the table.

Muscle by muscle he begun to relax, the book- much like his collection of video games- a form of escapism from his own realities. He eagerly flipped the page, his eyes moving rapidly over the text. He leaned forward slightly, hunched over the book as the drama on the pages unfolded.

Being so into the book ensured he jumped when three hard knocks hit his door. His heart hammered in his chest, he pulled the gas receipt that he'd tucked in the back pages and put it in the crease of the pages he read. He put the book down, chugged the rest of his beer and walked back to the kitchen. He grabbed his gun from the counter and walked to the door. He took a second to peek through the blinds.

Chibs.

It used to be that the presence of the man would calm him. It used to be that Juice would become excited by the company. They used to be friends.

Juice knew he had no one but himself to blame for the fall out. He'd put his best friend through the ringer. First when he tried to kill himself. Later when Roosevelt was yanking his chain. _Rat._ It still hung over his head. The reaper on the back of his kutte that hung on one of the chairs in his dining room taunted him. The weight of the leather seemed too much most days.

He tucked the gun into the back of his pants, turned the deadbolt and pulled open the door. "Hey," Juice greeted but the smile never managed to take full form on his face. Chibs looked angry, practically fuming. Dark eyes held an intense livid heat. To Juice, it was like a punch to the gut and with it came the understanding.

Despite the knowledge, the understanding and with those, the new sense of forewarning, he didn't raise his hands, didn't back up and get himself some room, he didn't open that stupid mouth of his. He just stood there as Chibs slammed the door shut, reared back his arm and let the first fist fly.

::

Lyla struggled against the weight of the body that pinned her. Panic flooded her mind, her since running wasn't an option, the fight response kicked in. Her foot connected with a shin, but it didn't do much damage. She acted purely on instinct, she twisted her body and managed to get his hand off of her mouth.

"Mommy!" Piper shouted, his voice tight with fear. "Mommy!"

"Shut it you little shit!" the man shouted and raised his hand. Lyla's hands shot out and wrapped around the man's wrist keeping him from backhanding her child.

"Piper get in the house!" Lyla told her son unable to keep the panic from her voice. "Go!"

The boy didn't move a muscle, he stood with his back against the car door his feet rooted in fear.

The man didn't pay him any mind now that the kid remained silent. His dark eyes turned to Lyla. "You're late on your payments."

While free of her cocaine addiction, she wasn't free of the indebted money she still owed plus the interest. "I'll get the money," Lyla winced when his hand around her arm tightened. "I promise."

With both hands on her arms again he pushed her back into the trunk of the car again, air evacuated her lungs in one harsh exhale. His body pressed up against her. "Tomorrow."

Her lungs still wouldn't cooperate but she desperately tried to inhale. He shoved her into the back of the car again. "Tomorrow," he demanded once again. "Nod your head, bitch."

Lyla nodded and he released her immediately and walked off disappearing into the shadows of the street. Her knees knocked together, they buckled and she crumpled to the ground.

Piper launched himself at her, and despite her need for breath, she pulled her son close and held him tight. She gasped in her first breath and ran her hand over Piper's blonde hair. "It's going to be okay," she whispered to him. "We're going to be okay."

::

Quinn flicked through the paperwork at the bar. He hated doing the accounts. He could hire someone, but that would be both lazy and irresponsible with his money. He could do the accounts just fine- he just didn't like doing them. He scratched an itch on his arm absentmindedly as he looked at the numbers.

For the hundredth time in the day he thought about his baby girl. He told himself he wasn't worried, wasn't fretting over his youngest daughter. He simply wished she were around to do the accounts, she enjoyed doing them. He ran his hand over his face, he couldn't make his mind believe the lie.

"Stop it."

He turned at the sound voice of his Old Lady. Tink stood in the doorway, she wore a black pencil skirt, black hosiery and a black button up shirt. Her hair had always been clipped shorter than his own, styled neatly in a boy cut. Diamond studs from a few anniversaries past glinted on her ears. Black heeled pumps put her legs on display as she walked over to him. He could make out the vine tattoo on her calf through the hosiery. His fingers trailed along the delicate lines once she was close enough.

"Stop what?" he asked her as his fingertip traced one of the leaves.

"I could hear your mind working from the doorway," Tink's hand slid along his cheek in a whisper light caress. "Indiana is just fine, stop your incessant worrying."

"I'm not worrying."

Her eyes narrowed as her hip leaned against the desk.

"Okay," he admitted on an agitated huff. "I'm worried about her."

"She's a twenty-seven year old woman. She's spent time away from home before."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Tink had to smile. Her Old Man was an angry old grizzly when it came to his kids. She knew he still licked his wounds over Brooklyn's proclamation of hatred before she left. She knew that despite his various attempts over the years Sydney wanted nothing to do with him. Indiana though, he'd visited in NICU, and raised her the best he could from the moment she came out of the incubator.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and threw her right leg over his thighs. She settled on his lap, and rocked forward with her eyes locked on his. "I bet I could think of a few ways to distract you."

"Really?" he replied feigning disinterest. He leaned around her and jotted a few things down on the order form.

She tilted her head in a confused manner. She stood, kicked off her shoes, pulled down her pantyhose. She looked over at him, but he continued to do paperwork. In a rare moment of brash impulse she took her hands and in a grand sweep knocked the papers, the pencil tin, two clipboards and a dish of paperclips off the desk. She turned her mischievous blue eyes to her husband who stared at the things on to the floor as if he didn't quite understand how they got there.

"Rane."

One simple word, just his name from her lips caught his attention. He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. Even after all these years she still managed to surprise him.

"Fuck me."

He smiled. "All you had to do was ask."

::

Blood stained the bulky gold rings on Chibs's fingers. Exhaustion had his back against the wall and he slid down till he hit the floor, one knee up by his chest, the other leg stretched out straight. He panted, trying to get back his breath. The house remained in a hush only broken by the occasional car driving by, by Chib's own breath and wheezing breaths of Juice.

Juice had no inclination to move. He laid where he'd fallen. He could feel the blood drying around the small lacerations on his face that Chibs's rings had cut. Every breath felt like sandpaper rubbing against his lungs. Shame and guilt tore at his heart and his head causing as much havoc to the system as the physical blows had.

A few minutes into the savage beating the rage started to wear thin and at that time Chibs realized that Juice hadn't been fighting back. Hell, the kid hadn't even been defending himself. Juice simply took the blows as they came and stayed on his feet. A few more vicious blows after that realization his rage receded into grief. They had quickly become friends after Juice joined as a prospect. Chibs, while not Juice's sponsor, had taken the young man under his wing. They were close. Chibs had trusted Juice with his family, and they were his _everything_.

The wheezing sound that Juice made every few seconds as he drew in breath worried Chibs. He tried to push it down but without the rage to mask it the worry bubbled to the surface. His dark eyes focused on the young man who stared at a single spot on the floor. Other than the occasional shaky rise and fall of his chest that was the only proof he survived, he didn't move. Chibs couldn't help but think about how eerie it was.

Occasionally, Chibs had nightmares where he would find Juice hanging from a tree. He had nightmares that the fact that Juice had ratted would come to the table and mayhem would be voted upon- worse his kutte would still be marked with the Sargent at Arms patch and he would be the one to pull the trigger. The dreams would have him waking in a cold sweat, his heart hammering in his chest.

Another wheezing breath made Chibs focus on Juice. Residual anger ebbed away. The grief lingered because Chibs wasn't sure he could forgive Juice.

A rouge memory struck Chibs like a semi. The scent of the garage, the weight of the world on his shoulders and Gemma's firm but guiding hand. _'I've dug myself a good one, Gemma,' _he admitted years ago. _'Jesus. I've got no idea how to get out.' _There are moments when Chibs isn't sure what would have happened if Gemma hadn't come at the right moment. Would he have made the right decision? Would his love for his family outweigh the loyalty to the club? Would that love have blinded him to the potential outcomes?

Guilt gnawed at his mind. Chibs had known something was wrong with Juice, and he tried to get the kid to talk. He had gotten Juice to admit to his father being black. Leave it to Juice to panic over something that didn't actually matter.

He stared at Juice, his eyes taking in the cuts and bruises caused by his own hand. A jarring realization has him running his hand through his hair. It isn't Juice. There isn't any light, no spark, no big smile or ill-timed joke. There isn't anything of Juice remaining, just a shell- beaten and bloody.

The club is to blame, Chibs's hands balled into fists at the realization. Not for Juice's actions themselves, for only he could have made that choice. No, the club was to blame for the fact that Juice clearly saw that cooperating with the feds was a safer option than going to his brothers. Brothers he obviously didn't think he could trust. Misunderstood old rules and broken brotherhood had nearly taken Juice's life, but it seemed now that it had taken his soul.

Chibs got back to his feet and walked a little closer. "You need a hospital?"

"No," Juice responded through split lips.

Chibs walked into the kitchen, grabbed a dish rag and we it before returning to the living room. Juice hadn't moved from his spot on the floor but his breathing sounds a little better. He crouched down and pressed the cool cloth to a cut on Juice's temple.

"Was it worth it?" Chibs asked, he had to fight to keep his voice even.

This time, Juice's eyes lifted from the spot on the floor and up to Chibs. "The club is all I have." The blood that had dried on Juice's lips split back open. "I thought I'd be excommunicated, and it snowballed and then I couldn't get out, I was dead one way or another. I didn't know what to do or who I could trust. I fucked up, Chibs, I can't take it back."

Chibs stared a moment longer. It didn't fix what had been broken, but it was a start.

::

**Thanks for reading :)**


	11. Defective Dreams

Jax returned home later than he wanted. The lights were still on, but he knew that the boys would already be in bed. He unlocked and opened the door, he didn't see Tara in the kitchen or in the living room. He shut the door and locked it once again. He took a better look as he walked through.

He checked in on the boys who were both fast asleep. Considering how late it was, he figured maybe Tara had gone to bed as well. He heard water slosh and he followed the noise to the bathroom. The light around the edges of the door beckoned him. He opened the door and had the pleasure of startling his wife.

Tara jumped and placed her hand over her heart. "Jax!" She huffed out a breath. "God damn it!"

"Sorry, Darlin'." A cocky grin lit up his face as he sat at the side of the tub. The air smelt of some girly scent Jax couldn't identify, though he presumed it came from the bubble bath that left residual suds in a thin film over the water. The suds did little to obscure his view of her body and his eyes trailed over her stunning form. "I missed you."

"Jax," she whispered.

He didn't like the way she couldn't meet his eye. "What?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than intended.

"What is going on with the club?"

The question surprised him. "Why?"

"Because I'm your Old Lady damn it!" Her eyes flashed up at him, an anger simmering in their dark depths. "That's why."

"You were the one who wanted to leave," he reminded her, his hands balling into fists. He didn't want to fight with her, not after she just got out of prison, not after he just got back from a long night. He couldn't ignore the fact that his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of her leaving. These feelings, these events- they couldn't just be swept under the rug and forgotten about. It had to be put all out on the table and they needed to see where the chips would all fall. Jax feared they might not end up on his side.

Her hand trembled remembering how she had left things with Jax right before Roosevelt had shown up at their doorstep to arrest her. "I don't want to see you become Clay." The words had rushed from her lips before she could stop them. She breathed like she had run a marathon in a sudden wave of panic.

He closed his eyes. The fact that his wife thought he was capable of such cruelty and underhanded tactics pained him. "I'm not like him. I wouldn't hurt you."

"You hurt Wendy." Tara wished she could keep her mouth shut. Laying in the tub didn't give her much of a defensive position, besides that she felt vulnerable having this conversation naked.

"She was going to try and take our son!" Jax defended. "I will protect this family."

"At all costs?"

"Yes," he replied with no regret.

She took a deep breath, her breasts rising above the water line and as she slowly breathed out they sunk back under. Since she had returned to Charming over five years ago she started to understand more and more of the life. She loved Jax, the life she never quite fit in and she knew why. She kept one foot in a respectable field, tried to keep from the blood and lies that surrounded her. She couldn't do both.

Her career as a surgeon was over, she knew that and it ate her up inside. She'd worked so hard. There was so much she could still do, so many little bodies she could still heal.

Circumstances worked against her. She could fight the court case especially since she got out over the evidence being circumstantial. She could fight for her job. If she did and if she won, she knew that she would have to leave Jax- and by extension her boys because she couldn't see a way he'd let her go with them.

She wouldn't leave her husband, and she wouldn't leave her sons. With her mind made up she felt the tension drain from her shoulders.

"I love you," he said and her eyes rose to meet his to see his honesty.

"Church today," she said as she ran over her thigh and up to her knee. "What was that about?"

His eyes trailed behind her fingertips and he fought to keep from being distracted. "Patching in the prospects," he responded, his voice low. "Chibs is now the V.P and Hap's Sargent at Arms. We patched in a Nomad."

Tara's eyebrows raised in shock. "A Nomad? Really?"

"Yeah, Quinn vouched for him- look, I'll fill you in on everything," Jax promised, "but you either have to put some clothes on or make some room for me."

Tara smiled. "Drop those pants."

::

The house could comfortably fit a family, an average mother/father/child combo. Instead Lyla gave up her room to Ellie, she put Kenny in Piper's room and she took the pull out sofa. They all shared one bathroom, a small living room with mismatched furniture and an outdated but functional kitchen.

Lyla stood in bathroom and pulled her shirt off. She stood with her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder. Her lower back up to her shoulder blades were bruised. She figured it would look even worse in the morning.

She placed a hand over one set of the purple finger marks on her arms but her hand wasn't the same size and the bruises extended over her own fingers. "Guess I'm wearing long sleeves tomorrow," she muttered to herself.

She stripped down and threw the laundry in the woven hamper that sat in the corner. She pulled on a pale green nightgown and left the bathroom flicking off the light.

The door to Ellie's room remained slightly open and she peeked in. The blonde girl slept soundly.

She checked on Piper and Kenny. Kenny had a flashlight on one of his comic books and Piper laid in bed but his eyes were wide open.

"You boys should be sleeping," she said lightly as she leaned in the doorway.

"I promise to go to bed right after," Kenny said. "I only have two more pages left. I have to know what happens."

"Okay," Lyla replied walking in and looking at the colourful artwork over Kenny's shoulder. She dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

Lyla turned to her flesh and blood son, Piper, whose eyes were focused on her. She walked over and sat on the bed by his hips. She pulled the soft grey blanket over his shoulder and fussed as she tucked him in. "Close your eyes, baby, get some sleep."

Instead of replying, his hand freed itself of the sheets and rose to gently touch the bruise that marred her arm. His eyes looked up at her and welled with tears.

"It's okay, it's okay," she whispered over and over soothingly to him. "Everything is going to be fine."

Piper's lips pressed tightly together and moved to the left. She recognized the sign of his disbelief. "I don't want you hurt," he whispered.

Her heart twisted. She couldn't honestly promise him anything. She had no idea how she would come up with the money by tomorrow. Her dealer and his goons would be back. She knew she was worth more to them alive than dead, but it didn't mean they wouldn't hurt her to prove their seriousness.

"It's just a bruise," she said running her hand over Piper's fine blonde hair. "I'll be okay." She kissed his temple. "I love you, Baby Boy."

"Love you, Mommy."

::

When Indiana woke, she knew that she was going to have a bad day. First off, she had a nightmare where she'd been tossed in a lake with a cement block attached to her leg. The water wasn't deep and she was able to surface only to have the water continue to rise and she kept struggling to keep her head above water. Secondly, one look at the clock told her that it was only three forty in the morning. Thirdly, surprise! Her period had shown up three days early.

"For the love of fuck," she grumbled as she got out of bed. She stood for a second trying to decide what to deal with first. She moved quickly, stripping the bed and shoving it into the washer. She hurried to the shower and stripped off bloody pajama pants while cursing a blue streak.

By four thirty she'd gotten cleaned up, dressed in a cheap blue tank/shorts sleep-set, and put her sheets in the dryer. She laid down on the couch and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately zees remained elusive.

She went to the bedroom and grabbed her phone before she returned to the couch. She flipped through her contacts and hit dial.

_"Yeah?" _His voice sounded groggy.

"Did I wake you?" she asked as her thumb played with the hem of her shirt.

_"No. You okay?" _

"I'm not supposed to look like an associate of SAMCRO, but that doesn't mean I can't call you, right?"

_"Right."_ She grinned upon hearing the smile in Mac's voice. _"How is it going at Diosa?"_

She sighed and shrugged realizing a second later he couldn't see the gesture. "It's going," she replied. "Slowly but surely."

_"You'll figure it out. I know you will." _

She smiled. He never failed to have complete and utter faith in her. "Thanks. So, how is it going at the clubhouse?"

_"I patched tonight." _

Her heart leapt to her throat. "Really?"

_"Really,"_ he replied. _"I don't think anyone was ecstatic about it, but I can make this work."_

Her heart skipped a beat and then thudded away like she'd been sprinting. Mac being patched in Charming would mean her moving here. Of course, she had been the one who insisted they stay in California so she could see her family more often. Charming, only four hours from Red Willow was a prime choice. Her hand shook and she let out an uneven breath. Happy was Redwood Original. She had never considered that possibility when she and Mac had talked about where they would like to settle after the Nomads disbanded.

Mac patched in Charming. Happy lived in Charming.

Her hands started to sweat, but her goosebumps popped up on her arms. A wave of nausea hit her and her head spun. Her throat felt tight and it became more difficult to breathe.

_"Indie? You there?" _

She breathed in but couldn't respond.

_"Indie?"_ His voice was harder, more demanding. _"Are you having a panic attack?" _

She shook her head. No, no, no. They didn't trigger like this. They only triggered when she thought-

_"Indiana, I swear on this patch, I will drive over there right now if you don't answer me." _

She couldn't have him doing that. Her work would have been for nothing. She fought desperately for control. "Talk to me," she managed.

_"I'll talk to you all night, I love you. You know that. Two of the prospects got patched in tonight. You know what those parties are like. V-Lin, he's one of the guys who got patched today, got so drunk he passed out at the picnic table." _

Indiana hung onto every word, her head stopped spinning and the nauseated feeling dissipated.

_"The kid was sitting up and we all just waited until he fell forward. Knocked his head something wicked. Big bruise. Didn't feel a thing though. He probably won't remember tomorrow but I can't be sure if it's from the head injury or the alcohol. How are you feeling?"_

She breathed in and let it back out. "Better. It wasn't a bad one."

_"Maybe you should talk to a doctor, and I mean a real doctor," _he said cutting her off before she could speak. _"Emily doesn't count. She's a fucking sex therapist, you don't need that." _

Indiana's heart finally thrummed out a normal beat under her hand. She didn't bother to argue only because they'd had this one before. She knew Emily counted. Not only did she trust Emily with all her secrets, Emily had a degree to back up her advice. It wasn't anyone's fault but her own that she wouldn't listen.

A moment of silence passed comfortably. They'd been together long enough not to feel the need to fill the quiet with senseless babble.

_"So,"_ he said, his voice playful as he broke the silence. _"What are you wearing?"_

"Mac," she warned but her lips quirked up a little. It was nice to be wanted in such a way.

_"Come on!" _

"You know that blue sleep set?"

_"The one with the stretched out top, and I can easily get a glimpse of your tits if you lean forward?" _

Her eyebrows drew down and she commenced an inspection of her neckline. "Well… if you say so."

_"The little shorts that don't cover much?" _

She assessed the garment. "Yeah."

_"Is your hair up or down?" _

"Does it make a difference?"

_"Fuckin' A." _

She grinned as her fingertips twirled a strand of hair. "Down."

_"God, I just want to run my hands through your hair right now." _

"Yeah?" she bit her lip nervously. "What else do you want to do with me?" She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Did that sound sexy? Did it sound desperate? Did she sound stupid and needy? She shifted uncomfortably and her cheeks heated up with embarrassment.

He groaned. _"I want to kiss you."_

She relaxed a little as he sounded pleased.

_"I want to take that shirt of yours off. I want to feel your breasts, taste them." _

The heat of embarrassment might have faded, but it was replaced with a heat of another kind. She squirmed slightly and her hand fisted the fabric of her shirt.

_"I'll pull those shorts down your long legs. Fuck, I want those wrapped around me when I pound that tight pussy." _

She was hot, bothered and felt uncertain about doing or saying anything. She heard him moan and realized actions were following his words.

_"Are you wet, baby?" _

"Uh… I'm on my period."

The moans instantly ceased. _"Was that necessary?"_

She laughed. "Sorry, Mac."

_"I'm just going to pretend you said 'yes' when I asked if you're wet." _

"Well, technically speaking-"

_"Indiana!" _

"Sorry."

_"No you're not." _

She twirled a finger around in her hair again and smiled a little sadly as she held the phone. "Still love me?"

_"Absolutely." _He replied. _"You should get some sleep." _

"Yeah, what are you going to do?" she worried now that he might seek someone out to help him finish the job they'd started.

He let out a dramatic long suffering sigh. _"Watch some porn and jack off."_

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

_"I love you. I can't wait till this shit is over and we can start putting down roots." _

Roots.

She forced a yawn. "Good night."

_"Good night." _

She hung up and sat up and put her head between her knees as she tried to get her breathing to steady. It took her a few minutes to calm down and that is when her pep talk began.

"This is bullshit!" she stood. "So what if Happy is here. We used to be friends. So what? We had-" She blew out a breath. "Sex. We had sex. And then he regretted it." She crossed her arms over her chest as insecurities washed over her. Her lips pressed tightly together in determination as she marched to the bedroom. She pulled open the doors to her closet and stared inside. "Well I'll make him regret being a jerk afterwards."

::

She stood in the doorway of his room at the clubhouse. The green shirt she wore was at least three sizes too big and draped over her lithe body nearly hiding her small brown shorts. He sat up in his bed and stared at her with the feeling that she'd disappear if he closed his eyes.

Her top teeth bit into her lower lip. Her big eyes blinked a few times. She turned, shut the door and clicked the lock into place. She turned to him once again her back against the door.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before she took a few tentative steps forward. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat straight, his eyes trailed down her body, down her long athletic legs to the familiar combat boots.

She stepped up to him and her hand stroked his cheek as he looked up at her. His hands went to her hips. Her large eyes stared at him. His thumbs drifted under her shirt and felt the smooth skin underneath. He stood and his lips found hers. He moved forward forcing her back till she hit the wall. A sweet moan escaped her lips.

He stepped back and she smiled up at him. He stared at her confused. She stood before him in a pink tank top, black shorts with yellow leggings underneath. She held out a little white box and smiled. "I think I've always loved you, you know that? Not like I love the other guys either."

He took the box and looked inside. Her pearl handled revolver.

"No Hap!" He looked back up at her to find tears in her eyes. "_You_ are the one who don't know shit about love!"

She stormed out of the room and he dropped the box as he hurried out following her. The hallway blurred and when he walked into the bar it wasn't that of Charming's clubhouse, but the one at Sanctuary.

A little purple plastic table sat in the middle of the bar. Four chairs were taken. Four heads turned simultaneously in his direction

Little five year old Indiana turned around in her seat, her hair in lopsided pig-tails, she smiled at him and waved.

To her left was sixteen year old Indiana in a jogging uniform. She had a little white box in her hands, her hair braided from one temple around the back of her head and ended over her shoulder. Her face softened by a shy smile.

Across from the teenager was the Indiana he'd slept with, the one holding her arms around her chest, the skirt still ripped, her hair dishevelled, and her shirt rumpled. Her eyes held devastation, guilt and disdain.

The furthest away from him sat Indiana of now. White collared shirt, black blazer, hair braided straight down her back. Eyes met his but didn't register him at all. She simply stared but there was no feeling, no emotion in those big blue eyes. This Indiana stood, exposing the black trousers she wore. "Do you understand, Hap?"

Child Indiana giggled and blew a kiss. Teenage Indiana opened the bakery box exposing a red velvet cupcake with a black smiley face. Young adult Indiana's cries were heart shattering.

"Do you have any idea, Hap?" Adult Indiana looked away and shook her head. Her eyes returned accusingly. "The weight of your shadow?"

Happy sat completely upright, his heart hammering in his chest as the dream dispelled. Sweat clung to his skin and blankets tangled around his legs. He flicked on the light and it immediately ate up the darkness of the room. Somewhere in the back of his sleep-fogged mind he had half expected Indiana to be there. He cursed, rubbed his eyes and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the side table and stuck one between his lips. He grabbed his discarded jeans from the night before and searched the pockets until he found his lighter.

He lit up and took the initial rush of nicotine. Her words haunted him just as much as the look in her eye as she had said them. When he closed his eyes he could see her, pinned up against the wall, her hair a mess, eyes widened with surprise and pleasure, her painted up lips parted just slightly. He took an angry drag off the cigarette but it didn't take the edge off. He stubbed the half smoked stick out in an ashtray.

He grabbed the discarded jeans and pulled them on. He walked out of his room, down the hall and into the clubhouse. The patch party had been wild. He looked around, men and women in various stages of undress were littered around.

He needed to rid himself of the memories of Indiana, he needed a distraction. On a couch, he found two women who didn't have any partners. One was a voluptuous blonde, likely in her late twenties, who'd stuffed herself into a shirt at least two sizes too small but it made her tits look fantastic. The other was a brunette, likely in her late thirties, with tattoos and who looked vaguely familiar.

He grabbed the brunette by the upper arm and her eyes flicked open. "Oh," she whispered sleepily. He pulled her to her feet and she stumbled into him. "Happy."

He nodded his head toward the hallway and she nodded.

In the hallway it suddenly felt wrong to take her back to his room. He dragged her into the bathroom and put a hand on her shoulder guiding her to her knees.

::

**Thanks for reading.**


	12. All Shook Up

Juice came out of his room in the early morning dressed in dark blue jeans and an old grey t-shirt that didn't fit too closely. He made a pit stop in the bathroom, zipped back up and grabbed his tooth brush. He paused when he looked in the mirror. Nothing broken, which shocked him. The flesh on his cheekbone was swollen and split. His left eye was a little swollen but he could still see out of it. Nose remained intact. He quickly brushed his teeth and his lip split back open. He spat blood but all his teeth were still there so he didn't complain.

He rinsed and put his toothbrush back. He pulled up his shirt and studied the dark bruises on his skin. He tried to take a deep breath but his body screamed and he quickly let the breath out. He turned off the light and walked out.

He came into the kitchen and staggered back a step in surprise when he saw Chibs at his kitchen table with the daily paper and a cup of coffee. He figured that after Chibs had helped him to bed, none too gently but it was the thought that counted, that the Scotsman would have left.

Chibs's dark eyes looked him over and Juice fidgeted under the gaze.

"Can you ride?" Chibs asked.

"Yeah," Juice replied. "You hit like a girl."

The two men stared at each other. It felt so much like old times that Chibs just had to smile. Juice felt relieved and returned the grin.

"So what is this run for?" Juice asked heading to the coffee maker. He did his best not to show signs of pain as he reached up for a mug.

"It's a day ride. Some toy drive thing," Chibs replied folding up the newspaper. "Jax wants the Redwood Originals to have a presence there."

Juice nodded. They were making enemies left, right and centre. A bit of community service couldn't hurt- might make them some new friends.

::

Lyla had very few options. Her long sleeved dresses had back cut outs. Her short sleeved ones would show the bruises on her arms. She pulled on a teal blue short sleeved dress and grabbed a soft grey cardigan to put over it. It was too hot for such an outfit, but she didn't have much choice.

She hurried out of the bathroom and Ellie went in, the door slamming shut and locking behind her. "We have to go!" Lyla said through the door.

"I need to do my makeup!" Ellie shouted back.

"I need to get you kids to school!"

"Just wait five minutes!"

"Ellie, we don't have five minutes," Lyla argued. "I need to drop you off, get the boys to their school and get to work and we're already running behind because you took an hour long shower this morning so get out of there now!"

"Five minutes!"

Lyla pound her fist against the door. "Ellie. Now!"

"Five minutes!"

Lyla ran her hands through her hair, tugging a little. "Bring your makeup to the car!"

"I can't do it with you driving!"

"Well you better learn. Get out here now!"

"Five minutes!"

On the verge of frustrated tears, Lyla walked off deciding the time would be best spent getting the boys and their gear into the car for whenever Ellie bothered to come out of the bathroom.

::

Happy parked his bike at the back of Diosa. He killed the engine and kicked down the stand. He took off his helmet and hung it from the handlebar. He blew out a breath. Getting blown by the croweater hadn't taken the edge off. Bending her over the sink in the bathroom and fucking her from behind had at least tired him out enough to go back to bed.

Once back in bed though, he'd realized why the croweater seemed familiar. Sure she'd aged, it had been years after all but he'd placed her face with an old memory. Last time he had seen the croweater Kayla was when she was cozying up to guys at Sanctuary. Indiana had accidentally hit the woman with a pool cue starting a fight. Indiana had thrown a right hook that had knocked the croweater right off her feet.

Of course it was his luck of late that he would pick a croweater that bared no physical resemblance to Indiana and yet still reminded him of her.

He'd been wary of her as a child, understood her outcast status as a young girl, enjoyed the intelligence and kindness of her teenage years and was stupidly attracted to her as a young adult. She only gained appeal the older she got. This was some kind of karma backlash for all the shit he'd done in his life. Here he was lusting after his friend's daughter, after the Old Lady of a brother.

He walked to the front door of Diosa and let himself in. He took over for one of Nero's guys and stood in position. He noted the lack of one of the girls at the front desk and looked across the room at Primo. "Isn't Lyla supposed to be in?" Happy asked wanting a distraction from his own thoughts.

"Yeah," Primo responded shortly. He shifted in his stance and Happy read it as unease. "It's not like her to be late. She's typically at least ten minutes early. I tried calling her house phone and her cell. No answer."

Happy straightened up a bit. He and Lyla couldn't be called friends, but she had been the Old Lady of a brother before that brother's death. He didn't want anything happening to the beautiful blonde. She took care of Opie's kids, and frankly they didn't need any more dead guardians. "You know where she might be?"

"I know her way to work," Primo responded. "She bitches about traffic on August Avenue. Figure between here, hitting August and her place, routes are limited."

"You know where she lives?" Happy raised an eyebrow. He couldn't help but still think of her as Opie's. He didn't like the idea of her with another man.

"I know where all the girls live," Primo responded with an easy shrug of his shoulders.

Happy gave a little nod. "Go look for her." He didn't know where Lyla resided, he didn't know the routes she might have taken and looking it all up would take time he didn't want to risk taking. "I'll keep an eye on things here."

Primo gave a stern nod and walked out the door. The heat of the morning was already oppressive but he hardly noticed. Keeping the women of Diosa safe was priority. The girls get hurt, they get skittish, and they leave, all bad for business.

Lyla might work the front counter but she was still one of theirs. Didn't help that his post was right by the front desk, so he spent many shifts with her. Unlike the other front desk attendants she didn't pretend he wasn't there. She smiled at him, would chat about things she'd read in the paper or a movie she'd rented. Occasionally, when it was slow and no one was around she'd vent about the brood of children she was raising. When she was done she'd duck her head, flick her eyes up to him under her dark lashes and shoot him a sheepish smile and apologize for laying it all on him like that.

She'd always been friendly, kind and made the long protection shifts at Diosa a little livelier. His cousin, Nero the self-professed 'companionator', decided he would try to make a love connection apparently because Primo discovered that pretty much all of his Diosa shifts synced up with Lyla's.

He liked her well enough, no point in denying that, but he had no intention of hooking up with her. She was sweet, kind, beautiful but she had baggage and he had no interest in getting tangled up in that mess. He liked his sex uncomplicated.

He turned the corner around the building and collided with a fast moving body. They both went off balance and tried to correct. His arm went around, legs got tangled and they both ended up hitting the side of the building. Stumbling with momentum, he put out his hand to the building and ended up pinning the other body to the wall, a feminine whimper reached his ears as he got his feet back under him. Naturally, they'd ended up stomping on the flowers that rounded the front of the building and half way to the back. Both steady he let out a huff.

He looked down to find his body pinning Lyla's to the wall. He had to admit, she had one fine body. The scent of carnations and sweet pea had nothing to do with the flowers they stomped on but everything to do with the woman. His eyes rose from her chest and he noticed the grimace of pain on her face. "Sorry," he apologized taking a step back but he kept a hand under her elbow. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. She looked down at her feet, her heels had sunk into the earth and from around the toes of her shoes cute little flowers desperately looked to escape. "Oh crap."

He laughed. Her voice sounded as soft as the flower petals she stood among. "Come on." He took her hand in his left while his right hand moved up from her elbow to grab her arm lightly. "Let's get you out of the garden."

He noticed her wince as she took a step out and once both feet were on the stone walkway she took a step back out of his grip. He studied her face and when his eyes met hers they flashed with panic.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she insisted. "Sorry about plowing into you like that. Ellie made me crazy late and I'm so sorry." She realized she was rambling a bit but she couldn't help it. She wanted to distract him, but the look in his dark eyes told her that he had suspicions. "I forgot my phone in the hustle so I couldn't call. Kenny forgot his lunch in the car and I didn't realize till I'd already left so I had to turn back around and go back to the school." He reached out suddenly and she took a quick, instinctive step back.

Primo's eyes hardened her ensemble seemed to warm for such hot weather. Pieces started to add up in the back of his mind. "Who?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"I, I have no idea what you're talking about." She adjusted the strap of her purse. "I should really get inside, I'm late." She moved to walk past him but he grabbed her hard by her upper arm as she passed, his hand over the bruise she let out an involuntary yelp.

His hands brushed under the cardigan and over her shoulders. She pouted but didn't try to fight him off. He pulled it down a little and looked at the bruises on both arms. He didn't have to think too hard to figure out exactly how she got them. The handprints were clear.

"Who?" he asked again. In his eye, no woman needed to be victim of violence. Got a problem with your girl? Talk it out or leave her. No point in beating someone smaller and physically weaker than you. During his childhood, he knew his mother end up in the hospital more than once from the hands of his father. He never wanted to be that man.

"Doesn't matter," Lyla insisted trying to pull the cardigan back up but Primo didn't let her. "I have it handled."

"No you don't," he replied. "This wouldn't happen if your shit was handled."

She felt her resolve weakening. Tears burned and she tried to blink them away. "I've got this."

He heard the break in her voice and gently pulled the cardigan back over her shoulders. "We're going in the back and we're going to sit in with Nero."

Her eyes flashed up worriedly. "Pri-" One dark glance and his name died on her lips.

"We're going to see Nero," he said in a tone that left no room for arguments. "Now."

::

Indiana wore decorative little black booties, loops of studded leather circling her ankles. The black pencil skirt hugged her body and gave her curves. The shimmering red top with a plunging neckline brought attention to her small chest which she'd emphasized with a push-up bra of the same colour. Her hair hung loosely around her face and she felt confident and a little vindictive. The outfit almost mirrored what she had worn out with Jake before she returned to Sanctuary only to have Happy pull her into a back room and strip her of her clothes.

She wanted him to see her sexy, happy, and without him. She wanted him to regret behaving like he did after they'd had sex. This was also about confidence. She needed to build herself up, put up barriers to keep the mere presence of him from hurting her. She wanted to level the playing field a bit. She wanted to make him uncomfortable. She hoped he remembered what she wore all those years ago. By the time she got to the door, she had started to doubt her plan. He'd never loved her, why would he remember what she wore? Why on earth would he remember one meaningless fuck?

_Confidence_, she reminded herself as she raised her chin, stood straight and opened the door.

She walked in. No one was at the front desk. A guard was missing from the right side of the room. Some of the girls sat along the back couch chatting. Another woman sat at a table drinking coffee.

She was pretty sure Lyla was supposed to be in. The familiar, ever present worry rose to the surface. Once her mind created a pattern for someone, and they fell out of it, she couldn't help but start to freak out. She took a deep breath and pushed the anxiety down to manageable. Her life had taught her nothing if not to master the everyday fear that someone wouldn't come home.

Finally she turned to the left post. Happy stood there. Jeans rode low on his hips. A chain attached his wallet to a belt loop. His t-shirt was white and while it wasn't skin tight it was close enough to give him definition. She could make out a few outlines of his more prominent tattoos through the material. His dark eyes were focussed intently on her and her heart rate kicked up.

He had spent his time keeping an eye on things while he worried about Lyla, but all was forgotten when Indiana walked in like a blast from the past. His eyes went over the tight fitting clothing that accentuated what few curves she had. Her long, muscular legs on display from two inches above her freckle dusted knees down to her ankles. The red shirt clung to her skin and showed off her trim figure and it had a neckline that drew a man's attention. He forced his eyes back to her face.

The sexual undercurrent in their stare was denied by both parties.

Unlike the days before, she didn't ignore him, she didn't walk right on by. Today, she walked right up to him. "Isn't Lyla working today?"

The scent of her perfume hit him and made him want to get closer. "Didn't show up." He caught the concern in her eyes before she looked around. He watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Her hands came to rest on her hips. He couldn't keep his eyes from wandering all over her body. His hands felt itchy to touch and he put his hands in his pockets as a physical reminder to keep his hands to himself.

"Has anyone tried her cell?"

"Yeah. Primo went out to look for her."

Indiana blew out a breath. "I hope she's okay," she whispered.

A surge of protective instinct coursed through him. He wanted to insist it would be okay. He wanted to pull her to his body. He kept quiet and his hands in his pockets.

::

Lyla sat in Nero's office with her head bowed and her hands in her lap. Nero sat across from her and Primo stood to her left. Given that she had been one of the girls brought in by Jax, Nero had called the Redwood charter President. They waited in silence until the door opened. She didn't even raise her head, she didn't want to be in the back office being fussed over.

The door closed and she felt Jax's presence before his hand cupped her chin gently forcing her to look up at him. "You alright, Darlin'?"

"Jax, I'm fine."

"She's got bruises," Primo interrupted and Lyla threw him a dirty look over her shoulder. "Check her upper arms."

"Take off the sweater," Jax said. He didn't take lightly to the extended SAMCRO family being injured. Especially when that someone had been his best friend's Old Lady.

Lyla sighed, but she knew she wouldn't be going anywhere until the matter was settled by the testosterone crew. She pulled her sweater down her arms and left it hanging off her elbows.

Jax's jaw tightened as he looked at the dark purple marks that clearly made out two hand prints. "Shit." He shook his head and tried not to grind his teeth. "What happened?"

She blew out a breath. "I still owe an old dealer," she muttered in shame. "I tried to keep up but I just," she paused and took a deep breath. "I just fell behind."

"Someone came to rough you up?" Jax asked kneeling down so he wouldn't be looming above her.

She nodded.

"Were the kids there?" Jax asked worriedly. Logically, he knew if something had happened to Kenny or Ellie he would have already gotten a call.

"Ellie and Kenny were already inside," she told him. "Piper saw everything." Her voice broke and tears welled in her eyes.

"Why didn't you call me?" Jax asked remembering clearly what he had told her at Opie's funeral. "I told you that if you needed anything that the club had your back."

"It's my problem, Jax. Besides, I know about the money missing from Diosa and I know how hard that has to be hitting the club." She knew about the loss of revenue in other areas for SAMCRO but didn't think Jax would appreciate her mentioning it in front of Nero or Primo. "I don't want to be a burden."

"We're barely keeping Diosa running legally right now," Nero said from his spot in the chair. "But what I can offer is protection," he looked over at Primo who gave one sharp nod.

Jax shot Nero a nod. He turned back to Lyla. "Give me the details. We're going to take care of this."

Lyla took a deep breath. She had always felt safe with Opie, and this was his best friend. "The guy who came to rough me up is named Vann. He works for this guy named Oliver Kane."

"Never heard of him," Jax replied. He looked over at Nero questioningly.

Nero shook his head and gave a palms up gesture. "Me either."

"He has a small operation," Lyla replied. "I don't think he wants to get caught up in turf wars, he doesn't have a big crew as far as I know, just a handful of guys."

Jax nodded. "It'll get handled."

::

Primo came in from the back and waved Happy over. Happy walked away from Indiana and over to Nero's right hand man.

"She's in with Nero right now," Primo told him quick and quiet, his eyes flicking to the other girls. "She's fine."

Happy had a feeling that something was being left out but didn't say anything about it. If it was a Diosa problem, no point in dragging Sons into it. They had enough crap to deal with.

"Watch the front." Primo walked around him and over to Indiana, having to look up to her a bit since she stood in heels. "Are you any good with computers?"

"I'm decent," Indiana replied. You didn't get through university without having to complete a computers course- even if it had nothing to do with your field. Besides, she grew up in the generation of ever evolving technology. Given enough time, she could figure just about any program out.

"Need you at the front desk."

"But-"

"Nero cleared it. He wants a woman at the front desk. You're not an escort. You know computers. The job isn't hard, answer the phone, book appointments. The program will already be open. If you have any trouble just buzz Nero."

Indiana frowned. She had plenty to do without being given such duties. She was here as a club asset, not some employee. "Fine." She didn't see having much choice without making a scene that could blow her cover.

Primo nodded and walked back down the hall.

Indiana took a seat behind the computer and looked at the screen. The program looked simple enough to use. Happy took the spot where Primo usually stood by the front desk.

She looked up at him and caught his eye. "Was that about Lyla?"

"Yeah."

"Is she okay?" Indiana asked.

"Yes."

She nodded and tried to avert her eyes anywhere else. She'd wanted a moment of brave sexiness, to flaunt herself in front of Happy and then retreat to her office. Sitting here with him was not what she wanted. She could practically feel his eyes on her. Every inhale was lightly hinted with his preferred aftershave spicy, dangerous and sexy as hell.

Her thoughts started to wander into perilous territory. She tried to block them, tried to think of Mac but Happy invaded her thoughts to the point she could practically feel his calloused hands on her.

Happy kept his eyes surveying the area but it was a quiet morning, most mornings at Diosa were. His eyes kept returning to Indiana. She was absolutely magnetic. She seemed mildly agitated. She roughly pushed back her long blonde hair and he thought about how silky her tresses had felt. The rise and fall of her chest indicated she breathed a little quicker than usual. He caught the way her right hand balled into a fist. She shifted and her skirt exposed an extra half inch of her deliciously tanned flesh.

The phone rang and Indiana jumped. She blinked a few times and tried to clear her mind but the image of a naked Happy was very hard to dispel.

He watched as her hand trembled just once when she reached for the phone. She picked up and put the black corded receiver to her ear. "Disoa," her voice slightly huskier than usual. "Ten pm, you said?" She switched sides with the phone so she could grab the mouse with her dominate hand. "Yes, she is available." She hummed her agreement of something and leaned forward slightly. He caught a glimpse down her top, red bra a little bow between her breasts. "Uh, one moment." She covered the phone with her hand and looked up at Happy. "The girls can meet their clients elsewhere, right?"

Happy, who knew the rules around Diosa, nodded. "Yeah, mark the location in the name field." Nero had once mentioned the need to update the program so the attendant could put both location and names in but thus far hadn't gotten around to it.

Indiana nodded and filled in the hotel name and room number. "Alright, you're all booked. Invoice for the deposit will be sent to your email. You'll need to pay it before it is official." She twirled her finger around her long blonde hair. "Yes, you too." She hung up the phone and sat back in the chair. "This job isn't so bad."

"You'll be bored within an hour."

Happy's offhanded comment about her nature surprised her. She looked up and their gaze met.

He shrugged. "What?"

She looked back down and shook her head. "Nothing."

Lyla rushed over. "I'm so sorry I'm late!"

"Its fine," Indiana stood and stared at the flustered appearance of Lyla. The cardigan seemed far too warm for the weather. She tried to decide if it was her place to say anything. Softly, she laid her hand on Lyla's shoulder. "Is everything okay?" she asked in quiet, reassuring voice.

Lyla gave a little grin and nodded. "Everything is fine."

Indiana didn't believe the woman, but said nothing. She glanced over her shoulder to find Happy walking back over to his side of things and Primo once again stood by the desk. "Well," she said turning back to Lyla. "If you ever need a sympathetic ear…"

Lyla nodded in understanding. "Thanks," she replied keeping her voice discreet.

Indiana walked off but couldn't help taking one last look over her shoulder at Happy. She nearly froze upon finding his eyes following her. She turned to face forward and tried not to run to her office.

::

**Thanks for reading :D**

**Now that you're done reading, and wondering what you could possibly do with your time, here I am to offer you my suggestion: Go and read Da (or anything, really) written by Whoneedsasword. **

**Why? You may ask. **

**Because A) it's all fucking awesome. **

**B) She's pretty much the one writer for Chibs/Fiona stories. (I for one, fucking love this pairing. Long live the FiFi!)**

**C) She's got some great Chibs/Juice stuff, and lets face it, we all love the brotherhood between those two. **

**D) Kerrianne. One of the most underused characters and she writes this teenager with such a great sense of humour and really fleshes her out. **

**E) Why the heck are you still reading this? Aren't you convinced? Go, go, go! **

**Again, thanks for reading! (and you'll thank me for the suggestion later.)**

**Love and Light**

**~Rush**


	13. Warning

**A/N: ****(Disregard if you've been patient with updates)**** To anyone whose started to get snippy with me about updates, back the fuck down. I work full time, I'm planning my wedding, I have to keep up with everyday things like cooking and cleaning and God forbid, I have a social life. Every chapter I put up takes the ****_bare minimum_** **of 6 hours to write/edit. I'm sorry, but until you could manage to keep up with all that AND still write not just one story, but I'm currently writing three, I don't want to hear it. **

**I love writing, and I love writing this story. I literally work on it every spare moment I can grasp. Pestering me isn't going to magically give me more hours in the day. Calm your tits. I'm not going to drop the story when I miss a fucking update, I was busy. Life happens. Deal with it. **

**Thank you to everyone who has been patient, I appreciate it. I know it takes me a while to pump these out, but if I could do it faster, I would. **

**::**

Chibs and Juice walked out of the house to find Tig and Mac on Juice's driveway straddling their bikes while they waited.

Tig's eyes widened at the sight of Juice. They weren't the closest of brothers, but Juice was kind of like a stray dog that had been kicked one too many times and in that way Tig sort of adored him- although, he'd never say so. Juice could be an annoying fuck-up at times, but he wore the patch and if you called him, he'd be there. He took stock of Chibs, who appeared fine but Tig caught the busted open knuckles and put two and two together.

"Shit man, you lose a fight?" Mac asked Juice. Juice's only response was to flip the new guy off.

Tig had witnessed the tension between the once close Chibs and Juice, it had been like a storm brewing for weeks. "You two gonna kiss and makeup?" Tig taunted slightly unable to keep from ribbing his brothers.

"Not unless he grows tits," Chibs responded as he mounted his bike. "Big tits."

Tig shook his head, but understood that despite any lingering problems between the two there was a sense of comradery that had returned.

The four motorcycles came to life and the four men headed for the meet point.

::

Jax strode into the clubhouse with his SAA at his side. Nero had called in another one of his guys to take over Happy's shift at Diosa because Jax wanted everyone he could spare to scare the hell out of Oliver Kane.

He looked over to the bar; Bobby sat on one of the stools, Phil stood by the bar and V-Lin rummaged through the fridge trying to decide on a beer.

"Bobby, Phil, V-Lin," Jax said getting their attention. "We got business."

"What kind?" Bobby inquired with a curious expression.

"Some asshole coke dealer roughed up Lyla last night," Jax informed the other guys.

"Oh shit," Bobby muttered into his beer.

"Is she okay?" Phil asked, genuine in his concern.

"Just some bruises, she'll be alright," Jax replied with a nod. "I want to make sure this fucker doesn't go near her again. He's some low level dealer, he isn't trying to make a name for himself and isn't trying to take over turf. Shouldn't be hard to teach him not to mess with the big boys."

"Let's do it," V-Lin replied over-eager in his full-patched status.

"Where is this guy?" Bobby asked.

"Rents some little shit-hole down Ruggers Lane," Jax responded with a nod of his head toward the door.

Bobby abandoned his beer, and the men walked out of the clubhouse and toward their motorcycles.

::

The toy drive took the men to a community centre three hours outside of Charming. Brothers from Tucson, Nevada and Fresno were already there and had everything packed up.

"We do all the work," one of the Fresno brothers said walking over to them with a big grin. "And Charming shows up for some of the glory."

"Pierce, you shit!" Tig put the shorter man in a friendly choke hold but it didn't last too long before the man tactically got out of it and pushed Tig back a few steps.

"Just can't keep your hands off of me, can you Tiggy?" Pierce shot the men a winning smile.

Tig smiled but flipped Pierce off.

"We're just packin' up here," Pierce told them as he ran his hand over what little hair his buzz cut left him with. "And then we're distributing the toys to sick kids on long stays at the local hospitals."

"Who's running this thing?" Chibs asked looking around. He spotted a few brothers he knew, but more that he didn't.

"Indiana Hills; their president, Jury will be able to give you your assignments."

::

Jax took the lead when they got to Oliver Kane's property down Ruggers Lane. He walked across the small lot of dead grass, Happy to his right, Bobby to his left, V-Lin and Phil taking up the back. He wouldn't allow anyone to harm what fell under the wingspan of SAMCRO. Kane sending his goons to scare Lyla, producing and distributing drugs in Charming- none of that would fly with the club.

His mind went to Luanne Delaney and his mistake of leaving Georgie Caruso alive. He didn't want to make that mistake again but he also knew that creating a bloodbath in their own town would be club suicide. With Lyla under protection he felt more confident. He'd either make Oliver Kane see reason, or sabotage his business until he had to leave Charming.

He got to the front door and tried the handle, unlocked. Jax rolled his eyes and pushed open the door. Three scrawny guys were weighing white powder and putting it into little vials. One jumped up and pulled a gun.

In less than a second Happy stood in front of Jax, his gun in hand and he shot the guy in the leg. The man howled and fell back into his seat.

"Where is Kane?" Jax asked the two guys who were staring in shock at their wounded friend. "Hey shitheads!" Jax kicked the table to get their attention. "Where is Kane?"

Both guys pointed in the same direction.

"Phil, V-Lin," Jax caught their attention and pointed to Kane's men. "Watch these pricks."

"You got it," V-Lin responded with the weight of the gun in his hand.

Jax moved through the house keeping a lid on his temper. If any of the club members truly embodied the 'brains before bullets' mantra, it was Jackson Teller.

They figured the back room held an office and Jax opened the door to find a man sitting behind a desk. Oliver Kane wore a black dress shirt, black pants and a bulky gold watch. Black framed glasses perched on his nose, dark brown hair cut and styled professionally. His eyes widened at the sight of the three bikers in his doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Oliver asked warily.

"Absolving some debts," Jax replied coming closer and placing his hands on the table. He leaned in menacingly. "Lyla Dvorak-Winston. She's in the clear."

Oliver offered a cold smile. "Do you have the money?"

Jax looked over his shoulder at Bobby, disbelief mirrored on their faces. Jax turned back to Oliver. "You must be new in Charming. Here is how things work. You don't deal drugs of any kind in Charming. You harm someone who falls under the protection of SAMCRO, you get hurt back. You hurt Lyla. You're now taking the monetary hit to right that mistake."

"I gave her that snow under the impression that she would pay me," Oliver retorted. Anger seemed to brighten his green eyes. "I was well within my rights to convince her to pay up."

"Fuckin' idiot," Bobby muttered under his breath.

Jax shook his head. "This is your one and only warning. Lyla is clear of you. You ever go near her again, you try to collect, you harm her in anyway and you will regret it."

"Oh," Oliver put his hands up mockingly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jax glanced over at Happy and just raised his eyebrows slightly. Happy's lips twitched like he might just smile. Instead he rounded the desk in three strides, grabbed Oliver by the throat and hand the slight man up against the wall in a second, the wheeled chair rolling out of the way.

Happy removed his knife and pressed it against the man's throat. "You better do more than just 'keep it in mind.'" Happy warned, his voice low and angry. He dragged the knife down but didn't break skin. He rested the knife against the man's collarbone and enjoyed seeing the raw fear in the man's eyes.

"You don't harm what belongs to the Sons." Happy put just a little more pressure and the knife cut through skin. Oliver hissed in pain. "You go near Lyla again, and I'll carve you up so bad that no one would be able to recognize your body in the morgue." Happy pushed the man away and wiped his knife off on the plush white accent chair that sat in the corner.

"Good visit," Jax said shooting Oliver a sarcastic smirk. "Be smart, get the fuck out of Charming."

::

The children's ward at the hospital was alive with happy faces and laughter. Chibs had made note of Tig's quick escape. Mac had a legion of tiny mesmerised fans as he read one of the new comic books to them with enthusiasm. Juice had sat cross legged on the floor and helped one of the girls unknot a dolls hair. Since then the girls in the ward had flocked to him. Chibs had a couple kids look at him suspiciously, he figured his facial scars weren't helping the matter, so he kept to the back and out of the way while he unpacked a few toys from boxes with Jury.

Juice sat pretty close to the main table, not that he'd had much of a choice. Younger and more friendly than most of the Sons the kids had instinctively chosen him as safest and went to him to request toys on the table they wanted. Now that the initial mad rush was over he helped some of the girls fix up the dresses or brush out the knotted hair of dolls.

"Can I touch your hair?" one of the girls asked Juice and Chib's chuckled. The girl didn't have any hair and wore a colourful scarf tied around her head. She had a big friendly smile and curious green eyes that took in everything around her. She was one of the more outgoing in the group.

Juice didn't care, he smiled at the girl reassuringly. "Sure, what's your name?"

"Lorelai, but everyone just calls me Lori." The girl's hand reached out tentatively before she ran it over the short hair. "Tickles," she giggled and drew her hand back. "What's your name?"

"Juice."

She giggled. "No," she drawled the word out for a few seconds. "You can't be named 'juice' because 'juice' isn't a name!"

"Well, my name is Juan but people just call me Juice."

"Why?" Lori asked curiously sitting beside him.

Juice looked over at Chibs who was snickering. "Well with my first name being Juan and my middle name being Carlos when I was growing up people called me J.C. I got introduced to new friends and one of them misunderstood and thought my name was 'Juicy.' I guess it stuck."

Lori giggled. "That's silly."

Juice shrugged in a 'what-can-you-do' fashion.

"You have drawings on your head," Lori mentioned. "And on your arms."

"Yeah, do you like them?" Juice asked her.

The girl looked a little closer at the ones on his arms. "Some are kind of scary," she admitted. "But I like the ones on your head. They're kind of like the thingies The Flash has on his costume. My brother likes comic books. Do you have any brothers?"

Chibs paused in his work. Juice actively avoided discussing his family. "No," Juice replied evenly and passed another girl back her doll with hair now free of knots.

"Any sisters?" Lori pressed as she adjusted her checkered blue and white hospital gown.

"Nope."

"How about a momma?"

Chibs watched the flicker of pain on Juice's face. Juice shook his head.

"A daddy?" the girl's voice became soft and sympathetic.

"No," Juice replied quietly.

Lori frowned, her big blue eyes blinked a few times. "I'm sorry."

Juice sat a little straighter in his surprise. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. Besides, what happened eventually brought me here, right? So that's good."

Lori beamed up at him and she got back to her feet to hug him. Chibs watched Juice grimace with pain from the fight they'd had the night before, but he patted the girl on the back and smiled at her when she pulled away. "You're right, Juice. Just like my momma always says 'gotta look for the silver-linings!"

"Ah no!" Mac cried out and everyone turned. "Not the freeze-ray! My one weakness!" He dropped to his knees dramatically as the one little boy laughed.

Chibs patted Jury on the back and took a leave since things were pretty much done anyway. He walked out of the hospital, nearly getting turned around in the maze of hallways. He waited until he was a good twenty feet from the hospital doors before he rooted through pockets to find his cigarettes. He put one between his lips and paused to light the thing. He sucked in the first rush of nicotine and blew it out in a sigh.

He spotted Tig among the line of motorcycles. He was smoking while leaning against his Harley. Chibs opted to join him. "Almost ready to go?" Tig asked before he took the last drag from the cigarette.

"Looks like they're almost done in there," Chibs replied with a slight nod. The sun cooked the big hospital lot and Chibs felt like his nose was going to end up sunburnt.

"Good," Tig responded pulling out another cigarette.

Chibs studied Tig and then looked at the ground by the man's feet. Nearly a pack's worth of cigarette ends littered the ground around him.

"You alright?" Chibs asked, his accent lilting the words.

"Fine," Tig replied automatically. Chibs raised an eyebrow and Tig shook his head. "The little girl in there with the brown pigtails?" Chibs nodded informing the other man he knew which kid Tig spoke of. "Reminds me of Dawn when she was little."

Chibs felt a lump at the back of his throat. He couldn't imagine there was much in the world that was worse than losing a child, and to have lost one to such unspeakable violence. Chibs's hand went to the rosary hidden under his shirt and sent a short prayer of thanks for his own daughter's health and happiness.

"No, there is no way!" Mac's voice carried across the lot.

"Yeah way," Juice argued back.

"Jean Grey!"

"Storm! Halle Berry played her in the x-men movies," Juice spoke with his hands emphasising his words. "She wins hands-down right there."

"You two done?" Chibs shouted at them. "Stop talking about super-pussy and get moving!"

::

Running always cleared Indiana's mind. Her feet hit the pavement in a steady rhythm. She didn't bother with her music player, the evening had yet to cool and sweat started to bead on her skin. She pushed through the protest of her legs and after a few minutes they quit complaining as they fell into the familiar stride.

With everything going on, her mind wouldn't be silenced. Not even running would stop the gears from turning. After being relieved from the front end station by Lyla, she'd returned to her office and got to work. She almost admired whoever it was who stole from Diosa. They were clever and had done an amazing job at covering their trails. This though, only made her more determined to prove her brilliance by unravelling it.

Happy though had bewitched her mind. She couldn't clear him of her thoughts. She found the entire situation completely maddening.

She pushed her body and panted for breaths as she fixated her eyes on her goal line at the end of the dead-end road and sprinted for it. Her long, muscular legs working for her objective. For a few seconds, her mind numbed, nothing but her and the end of the road.

Her feet dug into the gravel at the end and she slid a bit into a stop. Her hands went down on the medal guard rail as she gasped in breaths. In that moment all the worries rushed back into place and she once again longed for that moment of respite, no matter however brief.

She sat on the guard rail and drank sips from her water bottle. Despite how hard she tried, she knew she couldn't actually run from her problems. She took another sip and put the thin bottle back into the belt around her waist. The trip home always seemed harder, she didn't feel particularly motivated to return to the empty home.

Starting in a walk, she continued to pick up the pace until she was running and her body begged for the release of endorphins the run would bring.

::

The four men on the toy-drive run stopped on the way back at a small diner that had a gas station. Juice was filling up his motorcycle and had waved everyone else in to get settled. He looked small but he could pack away food at a record pace. The sun had just started to set and it set the sky ablaze with the final light of the day.

His prepaid started to ring and he quickly pulled it out. The number was certainly long distance, but familiar. A smile automatically fitted his face. He flipped the phone open as he put the gas pump back into the holder. "Hey, Kerri."

_"Hey, Juice. What's up?" _

"Just wrapped up a toy-drive," he replied as he walked over to the little pay booth. "On the road home, needed to get some gas and something to eat." He paid the man a twenty and walked back to his Dyna. He wasn't too worried about moving it. There were six unused pumps and no cars around. "What about you?"

_"Just finished work at Ashby's,"_ she replied, and he smiled at the Irish lilt in her voice. _"Walkin' home now." _

He guessed the time based on the position of the sun, and did a quick tally of the eight hour time difference between them. "It's gotta be like one or two in the morning there." He knew that she often worked the afternoon/night shift there. It worried him sometimes that she would walk the three blocks from Ashby's Provisions to the little loft apartment she shared with her mother all alone. "You with anyone?"

_"Nah."_ Her answer didn't come to him as a surprise. She always walked it alone. _"It's only three blocks. Besides I got the biggest bottle of pepper spray you'd ever set your eyes on. Da gave it to me on his last visit here." _

He sighed. Pepper spray or not, he worried about Kerrianne. He couldn't help it. He spent quite a bit of time with her during the club's time in Belfast when they were working to retrieve Abel. Chibs had entrusted the life of his beloved wife and daughter to him. The fact that Chibs had lost that trust in him was like glass in his wounds.

_"How's my Da?"_

"Good, he's on the trip with me," Juice replied. "Pissed off a bit, not a damn bit of cloud cover during our ride. His nose is a bit sunburnt. Tig is worse off, got a bit tan 'cept for where his sunglasses were."

Kerrianne's laughter made his heart skip a beat. _"I bet it's a good look on him," _she jested._ "It'll bring out his eyes." _

"Yeah," he laughed along with her. "'The raccoon,' it'll be all the rage."

She laughed again at his comment and he heard what sounded to him like keys jingling. _"I'm home safe and sound. I should get off the phone before I head in. Ma's likely asleep. I don't want to wake her." _

"You should be getting to sleep too," he commented.

_"Yeah, it sounds like a pretty good plan right about now," _Kerrianne agreed._ "Have a safe drive home." _

"Thanks. Good night, Kerri."

_"G'night, Juan." _

He heard the click of her disconnecting and he stared down at his phone with a smile. She nearly always called him 'Juice,' right up until the time they said their goodbyes. She called him every once in a while, asked how things were. Usually her calls were timed with her walk to or from work and he enjoyed the conversations no matter how brief.

He had noticed the way she never asked him to say 'hello' to her father. While being friends with Kerrianne, he figured that friendship wouldn't be approved of by Chibs right now. He wondered just what Chibs had told his daughter about him, if anything.

Mulling it over, he put his phone back into his kutte and straddled his bike. He drove it the short distance to the lot by the diner and parked it next to Tig's.

He looked in the window to see the three men at a table. Tig appeared to be flirting- and failing at getting with the waitress. She looked amused but not offended. He heard Chib's laugh when the door opened letting out a few other patrons. Juice spared them a glance before he went back to observing his brothers in the diner. Mac said something to the waitress. She laughed and wrote something on a napkin before passing it to the younger Son. She winked and was off. Tig threw his hands up in the air in disbelief. Chibs laughed again and threw his arm over Mac.

Juice felt a surge of jealousy. He was being pushed out and Mac was taking his place within the club. With sharp clarity, Juice realized, he was not okay with that. He walked in and took the empty seat beside Tig. He nodded his head at Mac. "What's that?"

Mac proudly turned the napkin around to show off the digits of the waitress, who according to the napkin was named Katie, and she spelt it with a heart dotted 'i.'

"Don't you have an Old Lady?" Juice asked raising his eyebrow.

Mac leaned back in his chair, his eyes following the waitress around the diner. "Well, what happens on a run…"

Tig smiled and shook his head. "Just make it quick. I want to get back to Charming before tomorrow."

::

**Thanks for reading :)**


	14. Tethered

Primo sauntered out of Diosa. His eyes looked around the surrounding area while he held the door open. Lyla gave a small smile in thanks as she stepped out. The two walked around the corner of the building and past the flowerbeds that they'd trampled upon earlier in the day.

Lyla held her electric blue purse close. The large bag held a matching wallet, a black faux leather day planner, three tubes of lipstick, one condom, two tampons, a couple of receipts, and an assortment of hard candies. It wasn't really anything to protect, she just wanted something to do with her hands.

Her large grey-blue eyes turned toward Primo. When Nero had introduced them, she'd felt nervous. Primo didn't talk much, he didn't showcase his emotions on his face, or in his mannerisms. He was quiet, professional and mysterious. The scar on his face was a constant reminder of the kind of life he lived. Not that Lyla really required a lesson on what bad things could happen to someone in the life. She'd once worked for Luanne Delaney, she'd been married to Opie Winston. She knew better than most that a club could get its members and Old Ladies killed.

She didn't really know anything about Primo. She talked during the day with him but rarely did he ever speak up, mostly she just got nods of his head to let her know he was listening. She wondered if he had an Old Lady, or maybe a couple kids. She wondered if by being her protection for the evening if she was taking him away from something or someone else.

"I'm sorry," she blurted as they crossed the parking lot.

He turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you have something better to do then to babysit me." Her fingertips fidgeted with the straps and chains that decorated her bag.

He shook his head. "Not really."

Her thumb ran over the cool metal chain on her purse. "No one expecting you home?"

He faltered in his step, nearly smiled and fell back into step beside her. "No." He opened the door to Lyla's white Toyota Prius. "Keep an eye on your rear view," he told her keeping his mind on the task at hand. For the night, Lyla's wellbeing was in his hands. "Don't speed. I'll be right behind you. How many stops are you going to be making?"

"Two," she replied getting into the vehicle. "I pick up Kenny and Piper first from their elementary school and then Ellie from middle school two blocks down the road."

"Alright, make sure I'm behind you before you pull out of the lot," he told her just before he shut the door.

::

Chibs unlocked the door to his little house and walked in. He picked up the mail that had been shoved through the slot. He flipped through the mail as he toed off his shoes, junk, junk, phone bill, junk and a letter. He put the bill on the ledge by the door so he would remember to pay it. He tossed the junk mail in the recycling bin.

The letter in his hand felt like it had a little more weight than just a sheet or two of paper. His eyes scanned over the address as he walked into the living room. He smiled and felt as excited as a child with a Christmas present as he carefully tore the envelope open.

Upon peeking inside, he saw a folded sheet of paper and a few photographs. He ignored the photographs for the moment and pulled the letter out. Fiona had a beautiful calligraphy, he blamed this on the fact she'd spent a great deal of her formative years in an expensive, elite private school. Kind of a waste in the grand scheme of things, but he did feel a little grateful since the lettering did something stupid to his heart- then again- it was likely just because he recognized it as a little piece of his wife.

His thumb ran over the paper and his eyes flicked up to the beginning;

_Dearest Filip,_

_I am writing because I fear the house phone may have been bugged. I will be disconnecting it at the end of the month and getting new prepaids for our girl and I. I wanted to make you aware. I will text the numbers once we have the new phones. _

_I'm not sure if the phones are truly bugged or if I'm just feeling incredibly paranoid but better safe than sorry, right? I don't even feel comfortable writing this, after all, it could be intercepted, so I shall keep things brief. I would have e-mailed, but as you know I'm terrible with computers and I don't want to worry our girl. _

_Word on the street is grim. IRA is incredibly angry and although I do not know the reasons why, I do know that the anger seems to be aimed at your brothers. SAMBEL has taken hits recently both financially, and personally. One member is in the hospital with minor injuries. A young prospect was found shot up and left in a ditch. It worries me that more than once I have heard that the IRA has a desire not just to hurt the Sons but to hurt SAMCRO in particular. Please, Filip, take the utmost care! _

_In happier news, the loft is lovely. Our girl has settled nicely. She enjoys her job, and has a few good friends. She misses you and eagerly awaits your next visit- she is not the only one. _

_All my love,_

_Fi_

He slumped in the seat and held tightly to the paper in his hand. If the IRA wanted intelligence, the easiest way to get that from Ireland would be to bug Fiona's phones and wait for him to call her. She was right, better safe than sorry. There had been no word about the SAMBEL attacks, but this wasn't surprising. It's not like they advertised to other charters when SAMCRO took a hit, but if they were trying to hurt not just SAMBEL but the Sons as a whole things could get very messy, very fast.

He was glad that Kerrianne and her friend's names had been kept out of the letter. Illogical as he knew it was, it just seemed safer somehow. After all, anyone who knew either parents could easily guess exactly who Fiona was referring to.

He felt like he was failing them, being so far away. If something were to happen he wouldn't be able to protect him. He couldn't change these facts, his visits to Belfast were dangerous enough for them all. Last time, he'd even suggested that they take a trip to Scotland and he'd meet them there, a bit more of an expense but there wouldn't be IRA bastards breathing down their neck.

Galen's threat, ever present, repeated over and over in his mind. The one thing SAMCRO had unprotected and within the IRA's grasp was his family.

He pulled out his cellphone and he couldn't tell if it went against better judgement or not, but he dialled in Fiona's personal cellphone number.

It took three rings but she picked up. _"Filip,"_ she answered on a sigh.

The sound of her voice brought him immediate peace. His mind caught up with him and reminded him of the time difference. "Sorry, I must have woken you."

"_Never mind that,"_ she insisted, her voice sleepy but alert. _"How are you?"_

"Good. Just finished with my mail," he replied and then remembered the pictures and pulled them from the envelope.

_"How lovely."_

He had expected pictures of Kerrianne or of Fiona but should have known better. Fiona had actively avoided using Kerrianne's name in the letter, only referring to her as 'our girl.' The pictures instead were to spark memories.

The first image had captured the little café, Kerrianne's favourite, and he would always take her there after dinner while visiting Belfast, they would have tea and the test platter of little cake slices.

The second image was of a church that had his heart beating a little faster. It had burned down ages ago. The picture was old, an original from their wedding album. The little white church with beautiful stained glass windows had been perfect in its simplicity.

The third photograph was more informative. Although the picture was a close up shot of a wall, he could make out a small anarchy symbol- one that his dear nephew Padraic had spray painted on the SAMBEL wall the day he'd been patched. The wall was riddled with bullets. He put it on the table to show Jax later.

"As was the trip down memory lane," he said of the photographs. "And how are you doing?"

_"I'm fine,"_ she assured him. He could hear a door open and he imagined her up and walking around the little loft in her plush blue housecoat. Another door opening, and then closing softly. _"She's sleeping."_

He didn't have to ask 'who' knowing full well she meant Kerrianne. Fiona wasn't one to scare easily, she also didn't just become scared for no good reason. Her suspicious behaviours worried him more than he could admit over a potentially unsecure line. "Those new phones?"

_"Later today,"_ she replied._ "Til then?" _

"Yeah." He always felt uneasy at the end of a conversation with his wife. "I love you."

_"And I you." _

::

Lyla stood by the window, peering out from around the drapes. She had put the kids down hours ago, and after an hour of arguing even Ellie was asleep. She found Primo easily enough thanks to the burning end of his cigarette. She shook her head. She'd told him to just come in but he'd refused. She had tried again when she had brought him out a plate of dinner but while he'd accepted the food, he'd refused once again.

She grabbed her pack of cigarettes and walked out into the cool night air, she left the door open in the event that Piper called out for her.

Primo's head immediately turned in her direction. He nodded his head in greeting. She gave him a smile in return and sat down beside him on the stoop.

Lyla pulled out one of her cigarettes and pinned it between her lips that were coated in a light pink gloss. She inhaled deeply and pulled the cigarette away. She held the smoke for a few seconds before she blew it out. "Nice night," she commented.

He gave a little nod and flicked the ashes from his cigarette.

"You should just come in the house."

"No."

"Why not?" Lyla asked. "It doesn't make sense for you to be out here all night long!"

"Yes it does. The street is quiet, if anything is going to happen, I'll know."

Lyla rolled her eyes and took a deep drag. "That's a flimsy excuse and we both know it."

Truth was, Primo didn't want to become involved. He didn't know how long Lyla would need protection for, and while he was fond of her in a friendly way, he didn't want to complicate it. More he didn't want to get involved in any way with the children. He knew about the death of Opie Winston, about the two children left in Lyla's care, they didn't need anyone coming in and stirring up what little sense of normalcy they had. Lyla's boy, Piper also didn't need it.

"I promise not to seduce you," she jested and sent a wicked smile in his direction.

"I feel so much better," he replied dryly but the corners of his lips twitched as he fought the urge to smile.

She laughed and took another drag from her cigarette, she flicked away the ashes and let it dangle from her fingertips. "Come on. Someone is going to think you're a stalker and call the cops. Besides, you have to sleep sometime."

Logically, she was right. Especially when he didn't know just how long this protection duty would last.

He blew out a sigh. She smiled, knowing she'd won.

She dragged the burning end of her cigarette along the step, extinguishing it. "Come on."

He stomped out his cigarette and followed her into the house. He shut and locked the door behind himself and took off his shoes. Living room in front of him, two couches, one pulled out and made into a bed. Kitchen to the left and hallway to the right. "This place is pretty small," he commented. It looked tiny from the outside but inside it seemed almost claustrophobic.

"Well, you won't get lost then," she replied. "Down the hall you have the two bedrooms. Piper and Kenny share the first one. Ellie has the one at the end and then there is the bathroom. Only one."

He processed the new information. "You gave the girl your room."

"Of course. She's a teenage girl, she has enough going on. She needs her own space," she told him. "You can take the pull out, I'll take the other couch."

"No," he replied firmly. "You take the pullout. You've already been pushed out of your room."

"Pri-"

"I'll go back outside," he interrupted. The two stared off in a brief battle of wills.

Lyla backed down. "Fine."

::

The cool breeze brought a light floral scent from the back garden. Indiana laid, curled up on her side the world slowly slipping away. Her breathing evening out, her muscles relaxing, her eyelids closing.

A noise had her heart rate skyrocketing. Her eyes opened wide, but she couldn't make a single thing out. Her mind placed the sound, she'd heard it plenty of times before. Someone had opened the window. She heard someone grunt and something heavy hit the floor. She dove out of bed, her hip hit the dresser and her hand frantically felt along the wall for the light switch.

She hit the light and turned to face the intruder. "Mac!"

"Fuck me," he muttered slowly climbing to his feet. "Why the hell you have rose bushes right outside your window? Do you know how hard it is to sneak in some place with fucking thorns in your knees? One of 'em got my shoe lace and when I yanked free, I fell in."

"And I'm supposed to feel sorry for you?" she shrieked.

"A little," he jested with a smile on his face. "Parked three blocks away, took a trail and blindly navigated the woods behind these houses. Nearly broke into your neighbours place, wouldn't have been my finest moment."

She raked her hands through her hair as the adrenaline started to ebb from her system. "You scared the heck out of me," she confessed.

"Sorry," he replied softly. "I missed you."

She took in a deep breath and the anger drained away. She offered a small smile. "You're lucky I didn't immediately go for my gun."

"Unlikely you would have hit me with the lights off," he decided after a few seconds of consideration.

"What are you doing here?" she inquired as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I can't look like an associ-"

"And you won't," Mac cut her off and walked closer to her. His hands rested lightly on her hips over the baby blue fabric of the unflattering nightgown. "Like I said, I parked far away, I came from the woods and under the cloak of darkness. I'll leave before it gets light, no one will ever know."

He smiled at her and she couldn't resist smiling back. "Besides," he continued his smile taking on a teasing edge. "I know you don't sleep well when I'm not around."

"I sleep just fine," she argued, her chin lifting slightly in defiance. She moved away from him and went to sit down on the bed. "How are things going for the club?"

"Always business before pleasure with you, isn't it," he mused. "Everything is fine. I was out with a couple of the guys today on a toy-run at a hospital."

"Really," she smiled. "That's so sweet."

"The kids seemed so down when we came in but they livened right up when they saw the toys," Mac recalled, he smiled at the memory. "It was a nice change of pace."

She knew what he meant. Nomads were usually called in when the shit hit the fan, not typically ones that attended toy-runs or blood-drives and the like.

He kicked off his boots and took a seat on the bed. "How is it going at Diosa?"

"Slow but steady," she replied sleepily. "Whoever did this is damn good."

"You're better," he replied grabbing her by the chin lightly and pressing his lips against hers. "You know," he said, his breath warm against her lips. "You should burn this nightgown."

"You just wanna see me naked," she teased.

"No argument there," he declared as he grabbed onto the hem and worked it over her head. He tossed the offending garment to the ground and his eyes skimmed over her long athletic body. A smile curved his lips. "I really missed you."

She pushed off his kutte and folded it respectfully in half before laying it out on the dresser. She turned back around and Mac caught her by the hips and pulled her closer.

His hands skimmed down her thighs and grabbed by her knees. She got the message and placed her hands on his shoulders for balance as she straddled him. She could feel it, her mind distancing itself. She tightened her grip on Mac's shoulders in an attempt to steady her hands.

One of Mac's hands curved around her lower back and pulled her closer to him. His jeans were rough against her sensitive skin. His other hand slipped around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Her lips met his and his hand around her neck loosened. The gentle caress of his hand against her flesh shot a wave of panic through her system and she fought to get it under control.

She pressed one last kiss to his lips before she made a trail along his jawline, down his neck. Her eyes flicked to the light pink colour on his collar and she drew away.

His eyebrows came down low. "What?" he asked a little breathlessly.

"You should have changed your shirt." She felt angry with him, but even more so did she fell angry at herself.

"Why?"

"You have lipstick on your collar." She pushed off him and crouched down to grab her nightgown.

He grabbed his collar and examined it. "Shit."

She pulled the nightgown back over her head. She left him sitting there as she left the bedroom but he caught up to her in the hallway as she turned on the lights for the open kitchen and living room space.

"Indie," he grabbed her arm lightly and she pulled away.

"Its fine," she told him as she went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. She cracked the bottle open and took a little sip. "What happens on a run, right?"

His fist slammed down on the counter, Indiana jumped and some of the water sloshed out of the bottle. "That's it? What happens on a run?"

She put the bottle down and let out a frustrated sigh. "What do you want from me?"

"Something! Anything is better than this," he paused as his anger made it harder to think. "This passiveness. Any other area of your life and you're fucking tenacious! But in this relationship, you couldn't care less!"

"That isn't true!" she hissed her hands gripping the counter so tight her knuckles went white.

"Really?" he bellowed. "I have lipstick on my collar and all you can say is 'you should have changed your shirt.' Are you fucking kidding me?"

She shook her head and ignored the fact that her eyes were prickling with tears. "What am I supposed to say to that?"

"You're supposed to be pissed!"

"So you want me angry?"

"I want some kind of reaction, yes!" He ran a hand through his curly strawberry blonde hair. "You're my Old Lady, Indie. I fucking love you but-" he bowed his head for a second and when he raised it, she found pain in his green eyes. "But most of the time I get the feeling you don't feel the same."

His words were like a knife to her heart. "Mac," she whispered.

"I should get out of here," he stood a little straighter. "Not supposed to be here anyway, right?"

"Mac," her voice edged on begging. "Please."

He grabbed her arm lightly and pulled her into his chest. "We'll talk once you get this shit at Diosa settled, okay?" He kissed her on top of her head before she could answer, and he walked down the hall.

Indiana stayed rooted to the spot and by the time she managed to move her shaking legs and navigate herself down the hallway, the bedroom was empty and his kutte was gone. If it weren't for some leaves and some boot prints she might have been able to convince herself that she had dreamt it all up.

She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want it all to catch back up with her. She sucked in breaths and willed herself to calm down before it became a full blown panic attack.

::

**Thanks for reading :D**


	15. This Is Madness

**Next weekend I'm headed back to my hometown for a bunch of wedding related appointments. No update next weekend. Sorry!**

::

Ally Lowen had worked hard through life. The second youngest of five children of a lower-middle class family she had always faded into the woodwork. She didn't have the strong back of her eldest brother to go into their fathers struggling construction business. She didn't have the looks of her older and only sister, nor the placating manner in which she needed to marry a rich man- her sister had dropped out of all their lives around that time- good riddance, as far as Ally was concerned. She didn't have the athletic drive like her only other older brother, nor the college scholarships that had come with it. She also couldn't be content with the meager existence of her little brother who travelled in a van of all things.

No, Ally had buckled down and studied. She'd gotten her scholarships academically but even with financial aid she had struggled. The banks had turned her down for a student-loan then, even with her parents as co-signers.

Perhaps it was fate, Ally mused as she sat in the overstuffed chair in the small office within her little home. Had she not been born to such a family, had she not been turned down at the bank for the loan, perhaps she would then not have been in such a desperate situation, then Rosen wouldn't have guided her toward the Sons of Anarchy.

Before becoming involved with the SOA, Ally had no experience with a motorcycle club of any sort. Now, she couldn't imagine her life without the constant chaos. The quiet life had never suited her.

With Tara out of prison, she could focus on why the hell Lee Toric wanted her in prison to begin with. She'd called in a few favours but facts on the man were slim picking. Former US Marshall who was pushed into retirement. A couple of charges against him from suspects. History of brutality. Parents and only sister dead. Dead former partner.

Ally could only speculate with such little information, and as a lawyer speculation could come into play but it needed to be backed up by fact. She stood and walked around her desk and left her office. As always, she shut and locked her office up for the night. She went to the front door and checked the locks and the alarm system.

Despite the modest house and meager belongings, she did well working for the Sons. She didn't like clutter and didn't have much time to keep house. Noted once again when she walked into the kitchen and stared at the pile of dirty dishes in her sink. She ignored them, went to reach for a glass only to discover she'd ran out. She grabbed a mug instead and filled it with water.

"What could you have possibly gotten out of this Mr Toric?" Ally wondered out loud as she paced in the kitchen. The move did create waves with the club, most notably Jax. If Toric knew about the Oregon deal, he killed it with this move and kept Tara in Charming. It would definitely put Tara on edge, perhaps he thought it would make her easier to get information out of.

Of course, speculation didn't give her facts, it only forced her eyes open wide. She made a note to talk to Jax and Tara at their earliest convenience.

They needed to have their eyes open too.

::

Nero didn't blow off work often, but he had no fear that Diosa would fall apart without him. It hadn't been a conscious decision, it just sort of happened. Gemma and that mouth of hers could be pretty damn distracting.

The room had become a disaster; the sheets on the bed were twisted and bunched; knick knacks and paperwork from the dresser had been knocked over onto the floor; the stool from the chair in the corner had been toppled; the floor had articles of clothing strewn all around. Despite being a bit of a clean freak, he took a great deal of pride in this particular mess.

He turned and stared at her. "I think I'm getting too old for this," he told her with a sly smile.

She laughed heartily. What a beautiful sound, he thought.

Gemma shook her head. "Not from my position… any of my many, many positions," she all but purred in his ear.

"I'm late for work," he muttered but made no effort to get up. His hand extended only to play with one of the blonde streaks that highlighted her dark locks.

"Late is late." Gemma let out a sigh and rolled onto her side to curl up against him. Her fingertip slowly skimmed down along the scar on his chest and continued down. "But maybe we should get into the shower, can't go to work like this."

"Why do I feel you have an ulterior motive?"

A wicked smile flashed upon her face, and her eyes lit up. "Honey, I always have an ulterior motive."

::

Madness.

Madness was the only word Primo could find to describe mornings at Lyla's. He woke during the beginning of the chaos. It started innocently enough. Piper had come into the living room. Being a light sleeper, Piper soft footsteps had been what woke Primo up. He had the pleasure of seeing Lyla sprawled out on her stomach on the pull out couch. Her blonde hair in disarray, a fan of curls and waves. There was no makeup to hide her natural beauty, her mouth was slightly open and the pillowcase had a little circle of drool. He smiled, the little beauty was human after all.

Piper had reached out and grabbed his mother's hand. He didn't shake her, didn't pull her, just grabbed her hand and held for a moment. "Mommy?"

Lyla sighed and opened her eyes. It took a moment, Primo observed, until she seemed to become fully aware. She grimaced, wiped her mouth and sat up to catch his eye. Her cheeks turned pink and he held back a smile.

"Mommy," Piper said a little more insistently, but no less quiet.

"Um, yes baby?" She said turning toward her young son.

"Ellie took the bathroom. She's in the shower. I have to…" the kid did a little dance but didn't say anything more.

Primo watched as fury flashed on Lyla's face. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Did you knock?"

Piper nodded. "She said, 'go away.'"

Lyla pushed off the blankets. "She knows the rules," Lyla ranted to herself. "The boys go in first." And she was down the hall.

Primo heard the three loud bangs on the door. A few minutes passed and he imagined that Lyla was trying to talk reason with the girl. He looked to Piper who wiggled a little in his place, poor kid looked about ready to burst.

"Why don't you go outside?" Primo asked him.

The kid turned to him with the same strikingly blue eyes his mother had, those eyes then flicked to the sliding glass doors to the small back yard. The kid bit his bottom lip and he shook his head.

There was a strangled scream of frustration right before the yelling started. "Ellie Mary Winston get your ass out of that shower right this instant!"

"I was here first!" Ellie shouted back, her voice slightly muffled by the door.

"The boys need in there first, they're younger!"

"They can wait!"

"No they can't, now get out of the shower! Now!"

The water stopped and a second later the door opened and slammed into the doorstopper. "Happy?" Ellie shouted heatedly.

Primo couldn't hear what they said, but could tell the two women were still arguing at the end of the hall.

"Oh fuck off," he heard Ellie say and then a door slam.

Lyla came in looking exhausted, her hand went to her son's head. "Bathroom is free, sweetie."

He hurried off down the hall and the door shut quietly.

"Why wouldn't he just go outside if he had to go so bad?" Primo asked. He was considering doing that himself figuring he'd be the last on the bathroom roster but for now the couch was shockingly comfortable.

Lyla sat down on her bed and put her head in her hands. "He's shy, figures someone might see him." She sighed and her shoulders lifted and sagged in a small shrug. "I get Piper and Kenny in the bathroom first, get them ready for school- then Ellie can take her sweet ass time as always."

"And you?"

"I usually get up earlier," she admitted sheepishly. "I forgot to set my alarm." She blew out a breath and stood. "I have to make breakfast. Any preferences?"

"Nope," he pushed up and headed for the back door.

By the time he'd taken a leak and had the first of his cigarettes for the day he headed back into the house. The scent of coffee greeted him and he made a beeline for the kitchen.

Lyla nearly walked into him and she quickly turned and raised the bowl of cereal, sloshing some of the milk out of the bowl. "Shoot, watch your step," she told him.

Instead, he watched her as he went and washed his hands. She set the bowl down in front of Kenny. "Thanks Lyla," he said politely before grabbing his spoon and digging in. The kettle started to scream and Lyla sidestepped the spilt milk and took the kettle from the stovetop and poured the hot water in a bowl of instant oatmeal and stirred until it was the right consistency.

Primo decided that Lyla's powder blue nightgown wasn't sexy but practical. The differences between her in that home and her at Diosa were surprising. At Diosa she was some fantasy object, here she was just Lyla.

She brought the oatmeal over to Piper. "Thank you," he whispered before he started to push it around a bit.

"Cereal, oatmeal or toast?" She asked him.

"I can get it," he told her. "Why don't you get ready?"

"But Ellie-"

"I can handle her."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. He almost smiled.

"Go," Primo ordered. "I don't want to be late."

She offered a small grin. "Thanks," she said and then hurried off.

Ellie came in a few minutes later. Too much perfume, too much makeup, too few clothes. Blonde hair had been straightened, eyes lined with dark eyeliner and lashes darkened with mascara and finished up with dark red lipstick. Her shorts showed off her legs and the flimsy white material that showed three inches of midriff could hardly even qualify as a shirt.

She looked to the two boys who were eating breakfast, Kenny talking about his comic book and Piper listening intently. She then turned to Primo, her eyes narrowing. He'd been there when Lyla had given the kids the rundown- 'this is Primo, he's going to stay with us for a while.' He'd also heard through the open window when she'd explained a little more to her son-'Don't worry, Piper. Primo is here to protect us. You'll be safe.' She had decided that the kids didn't need more on their plate. She wanted to keep it as simple as possible.

"So-"

"Go change," he commanded without allowing her to continue her statement or question.

"You can't-"

"I said go change," Primo demanded. She looked like a little jailbait whore and knew damn well it was an argument with Lyla waiting to happen. He figured he could save them all a bit of time.

The tone of his voice had gained the attention of the two boys who watched the situation carefully.

"Go," Primo ordered once again.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Ellie's voice reflected her disbelief.

"He can so." Primo was surprised to hear it be Piper who spoke up for him. "He's protecting us!"

"What is going on in here?" Lyla asked as she came in with her hair wet. She wore a hot pink pencil skirt and black blouse with gold buttons. A golden necklace hung a little rose pendant in the curve of her collarbone. It unsettled him, how beautiful he always found her- even in the unflattering nightgown or sprawled out drooling in bed.

"Protecting us? He's a bodyguard?" Ellie's eyes widened and she whirled around on Lyla. "Just what did you do?"

Lyla straightened up, preparing for the impending fight. "Boys, grab your backpacks."

Piper abandoned his breakfast and hurried off. Kenny was a little slower, he looked at Lyla and Primo in turn and then he turned to his sister. He shook his head before he followed after Piper.

"What the hell is going on?" Ellie questioned with her hands on her hips.

"I'll discuss this with you once you have something school appropriate on," Lyla replied evenly.

"Jesus!" Ellie paced the kitchen. "Jesus, what the hell did you get us into?" She stopped pacing and her eyes narrowed accusingly at Lyla. "What did you do?" Ellie paced back and poked her finger into Lyla's chest.

"Ellie, please, go get dressed," Lyla's voice remained even but it was obvious even her patience was getting pushed to the brink.

"What, are you fucking someone in the club?"

"Jesus Christ!" Lyla exclaimed, horror written on her face. "Ellie, language!"

"Are you-"

"No!" Lyla shouted back. "I'm not with anyone!"

"Like you'd know a relationship anyway," Ellie muttered. "Whore."

Lyla looked like she'd been slapped in the face and Primo had had enough. Before he could say anything though Lyla had grabbed Ellie roughly by the arm and had started to drag her toward the hallway. "Get dressed, now!"

Ellie wrenched her arm free. "You're not my mother!"

"No, I'm not," Lyla replied coldly, her voice quiet and her body primed with murderous rage as she stepped into the girl. "Your mother is dead." Ellie gasped and took a step back. "Just like your father." Pain had seeped into Lyla's voice at the mention of her late husband but the coldness hadn't left. "They're dead, they're gone and the only person willing to take you and your brother in was me. So, instead of dishonouring your parents by behaving like a little bitch, show yourself and them some respect and get in your room and get dressed right fucking now."

Ellie's eyes welled with tears but she didn't let them fall, she just walked right around Lyla and down the hall. The door shut and Lyla nearly crumpled. She pressed her hands into the counter and leaned heavily into it. "Fuck me," she muttered miserably.

Primo stood beside her and filled up two mugs of coffee. He slid one along the counter by his fingertip to her. She looked over at him and gave him a small and fragile smile.

"So," he said breaking the silence. "Just a typical morning here?"

"Pretty much," she murmured.

Oh yes, it was nothing short of madness.

::

"I don't know," Indiana admitted over the phone with a small sigh. "I don't think some of the money was ever logged in the first place, but some was, and then was transferred and then some was allotted for payment for one thing or another but the manifests and documents confirm a significantly smaller payment. This is a clusterfuck."

Tink's laughter made Indiana smile. _"Oh honey, it sounds like a disaster."_

"It is," she swivelled in her chair and stood. The office inside of Diosa was classy for sure, but there was something about the backroom of Sanctuary that seemed more productive to Indiana.

Indiana just wanted to get the job done. As if the fight with Mac hadn't been enough to put her at sorts, Happy was on security duty out front. She hadn't acknowledged him when she'd walked by. She couldn't. In her eyes, it would be a sort of betrayal to Mac. She didn't sleep with Happy but the thoughts she'd had about him made her feel lowly and wrong.

_"Indie?" _

"Yeah?"

_"You got quiet,"_ Tink pointed out. _"Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah, just lots of numbers in my brain."

Indiana heard what she referred to as the 'disbelieving hum,' a little sound Tink made that said 'bullshit.'

"It's nothing, Mom," Indiana insisted. "I need to get back to work."

_"If it were nothing, you'd tell me,"_ Tink informed her crisply. _"So it is important, and more, it's close to the heart." _

Indiana chewed on her lower lip and her grip tightened around the phone.

_"I am here, whenever you need me. You know that, don't you?" _

"Of course," Indiana sighed and dropped back down into her chair.

_"Follow your heart, Indie. You'll be disappointed otherwise." _

Indiana smiled a little sadly. "My heart might be the problem. Its lead me astray before."

_"Or maybe you just can't see yet that this is exactly where you're supposed to be." _

"Mom, did you know right away that you were meant to be with Dad?" She asked timidly.

She heard the intake of breath and waited through the quiet deliberation. _"There can't be much worse than losing a woman you love, especially when that woman was pregnant with your child," _Tink's voice was calm and clear but Indiana could hear the trace of pain in it. _"Your father was in a tough spot. I lost your mother, I tried but I couldn't keep her alive. The best I could do was save you." _

"And you did." Indiana rarely ever gave her biological mother any thought. Cold, perhaps, but Indiana felt no connection to the woman who had carried her for eight months. Tink though had saved her life, come into it as a friend and then as a mother figure. Although Indiana usually called Tink by her nickname, she still considered her 'mom.'

_"Naturally, things were pretty rough for your father at that time. He didn't have anyone who really knew kids and once while Martha was away he ran out of options, finally called me. We became friends and, well, you know the rest." _

"But did you know?" Indiana pestered.

_"There was something. Interest, lust perhaps at first. Or maybe it really was love at first sight. Years don't really make us any better at these sort of things. Play your hand, Indie. Go all in. It's the best advice I can give you. I played for keeps with your father, came out with the jackpot." _

Indiana smiled at the metaphor. "I really should get back to work."

_"Me too, I got to get this order in. Love you." _

"Love you too. Tell Dad I say 'hi.'"

_"I will, but you best call him sometime soon. I can just tell he misses you something fierce." _

Being the 'daddy's girl' that she'd always been, she knew that call would happen sooner rather than later. "I will."

They disconnected and Indiana returned to the structure and comfort of her numbers.

::

Primo had been watching Lyla work for an hour. At about quarter past she'd gotten this little worried face. At twenty past she started looking at her clock more frequently. At half past she appeared agitated and kept looking at the phone.

He couldn't take it anymore. "What?"

"What, what?" She asked in return raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Half hour has passed since we got here. You're antsy. What's up?" he queried. "Is it something Ellie said?"

"No, no. I'm sure it's nothing," Lyla bit her bottom lip. She looked around and then waved him behind her desk.

Primo pulled away from the wall and walked around the desk. She tapped on her computer screen. He put one hand on the desk, the other on the back of her chair and he leaned down over her shoulder to look. She smelt wonderful. He put it out of his mind and stared at the long list of names, and times.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Irina had an appointment last night. Not in house," Lyla pointed to the specific appointment. The name of the hotel and room number were logged instead of the name.

"Yeah, Nero's been talking about getting this updated so you could also fit the client name in when the appointment takes place elsewhere."

"She was supposed to be here a half hour ago," Lyla whispered turning her head so her worried eyes met his dark ones. "She never checked in."

Primo glanced at the time, nearly twelve hours between the start of the appointment and now. "Shit. Don't you usually keep a list of clients for all the girls?"

"Yes, but-"

"Where is it?"

"It won't help. I didn't make this appointment so I wouldn't have written the clients name down."

Primo had a horrible feeling. "What time was the appointment logged?"

Lyla brought up the information and Primo swore. He had told Indiana to watch the computers at that time. She wouldn't know who Joshua Manning is, or know anything about his borderline obsession with Irina.

"Start calling her phones, home and personal numbers," Primo ordered. "I'll tell Nero."

He hurried off, moved around the girls, clients who'd spent the night and went right into Nero's office without knocking. He looked around in confusion when he didn't spot his cousin anywhere in the room. He cursed loudly and slammed the door behind him.

::

Nero pulled his grey shirt over his head. The collar got a bit damp since his hair was still wet from the long and hot shower he'd just taken. He looked over his shoulder in time to watch Gemma pull a short sleeved button up onto her arms. She started to do up the buttons but her eyes caught his, a wicked gleam in them as she slowly did up the buttons in a sort of reverse-striptease.

When she was done, he could still see the crow tattoo over her chest, and the scar from her heart surgery as well as the lovely curves of her breasts. God bless low cut tops.

His phone rang. He thought about ignoring it, but was already late enough and didn't want Primo- the infuriatingly punctual- to start worrying. He could admit though, that infuriating punctuality had saved his ass on a few occasions.

Nero grabbed the phone and hit the talk button. "I'm already on my way."

_"Irina never clocked in,"_ Primo told him.

"Who was she with?" Nero demanded to know.

A soft curse came through over the line. _"I talked to Indiana. She watched the front desk while we were talking to Lyla. She only made two appointments. She said one of them was for a Joshua Manning."_

"Son of a bitch! I'll be there in ten."

::

Thanks for reading!


	16. Flicker

**AN: Aoife is pronounced EE-fa. 'That's a fret' is a statement of disbelief.**

::

After Tara had blown off her own homecoming party, Gemma had decidedly stayed off the scene. She needed to see where the chips had fallen. Of course, Gemma wouldn't back down, she sure as hell wouldn't let the little tart take her family but she knew she needed to play her cards right or she risked losing it all.

Gemma wanted to start things off on the right foot now that that little prison trip had killed Tara's Oregon deal. She planned her daughter-in-law a nice little shindig, got Jax to take the boys to Lyla so she could get everything done. Of course, it all went to waste since Tara blew the entire thing off, and then Jax went and patched in a few of the club members. She recalculated and figured that giving Tara some room to breathe, would work out best in her favour.

At the beginning, she thought it would be difficult to stay away and give that distance especially after helping out with the boys as often as Jax would let her while Tara had been locked up. Turned out that the days just slipped away while she enjoyed Nero's company.

It had been a long time since she'd smiled, _really_ smiled. A long time since she'd laughed and meant it. A long time since she'd been wanted and needed, desired and loved. She found the entire experience with Nero to be more thrilling and emotionally fulfilling than her first two marriages. With the excitement of such an overwhelming love came the stark fear of losing it.

She walked around Nero's one bedroom apartment. Sparsely decorated, small and dull, not to her tastes at all. She'd entertained the idea of asking him to move in with her, but it felt wrong to have him in the house she'd shared with Clay. Hell, it felt wrong walking around in it herself. She kept waiting for the call, the one that either the prison or Jax would make to tell her that it was done, that Clay Morrow was no more. Part of her would rejoice. Another part, a darker part that had truly loved him would die. Until that time, she couldn't stay at Nero's on a permanent basis, and couldn't move on from the home she'd once shared with her second husband.

She thought of the lovebirds at Diosa, Carl and Carla, and smiled. Sometimes death brings a new beginning. The death of Clay Morrow would be hers.

::

"No." Happy's response was firm and absolute.

"We have no idea where Irina is," Nero argued back as he paced the space in his spacious office. Irina had a great client base, continuous income but his desire to find her stemmed more from his own personal failure to get the system up to speed and keep his girls safe. Something like this could cripple Diosa, if the girls started to get scared to go out, business could collapse completely. "We need to get close to him."

"You really think he will go for this?" Primo asked his cousin, disbelief colouring his voice. He crossed his arms over his chest as he mulled over their current predicament. He didn't like the fact that no one could get a hold of or find Irina. A clerk had seen Irina arrive at the meeting spot but got busy and couldn't say what happened to her.

Primo hated that Joshua Manning had her. When Irina had started to come back nervous, and explained that her 'John' had become more and more obsessed they had all started to see him as a problem. Especially when Irina showed them the pictures he'd taken of her on her day off, some even through the window of her home. Primo himself had taken a handful of guys to warn Joshua Manning off, the man had been blacklisted from Diosa, and they'd paid for the expenses of moving Irina into a new home. She should have been safe.

"Wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't," Nero shot back. He couldn't turn down the anger that raged through him.

"Not an option," Happy interjected, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The fact that they wanted Indiana to go out and try to entice this bastard had him fuming. "Think of something else."

"This is partially her mistake," Nero started and Primo quickly got between his cousin and the Son's SAA who had taken a few steps forward and looked ready to start swinging.

"She didn't know," Primo defended the woman quickly. He had an honourable sense of fair play, it got a little skewed to fit the world he lived in but he had a gift for seeing both sides. "We asked a favour of her, and the repercussions of what happened are on us."

Indiana had been standing in the office since the beginning of the discussion. Everyone seemed to want to debate about her; Nero wanting her to go in and sucker Joshua Manning into somehow discovering where Irina was being held; Happy wanted her to stay completely out of it and Primo seemed to just be playing referee between the two.

She'd grown up with 'Alpha' males surrounding her. Neanderthals, she often thought of them as. Cavemen beating their chests and having pissing contests. Most didn't ask for the opinion of a woman, they didn't want it. The men in her life had a way of working things out themselves with their brothers, they tucked the women away for safekeeping. Sometimes, she appreciated the worry. Sometimes she appreciated being put in a seat and told to stay put, told to stay safe. Sometimes it made her feel loved.

This wasn't one of those times. This involved her, she wished someone would ask her opinion. She tried not to feel guilty, like Primo said, the system was flawed and the blame fell to Nero's shoulders. Who carried the blame didn't matter, getting the woman back safe did. If she could do something, if she could make a difference and she didn't go for it and something did happen to the woman she'd never forgive herself.

"Anyone want my input?" Indiana muttered like a grumpy child that had been ignored too long.

"No," Happy replied immediately. His eyes narrowed darkly at Nero.

"I want to help her," Indiana shouted so there could be no mistake about what she said. When Happy turned to finally look at her she snapped; "You don't get a say in this Hap!" She then turned to Nero. "What do you need me to do?"

"You work here as an asset of the Sons," Happy interjected. He grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her toward him. "Which means you're going to stay here, _safe_, and do the damn job you were brought in to do."

"I'm the one who set her up with this creep, Hap," she whispered heatedly. She felt some sense of responsibility toward Irina since she'd been the one to take the call, she needed to help get the woman back. "I have to do something!"

"This isn't your fault," he growled, his grip on her arm tightened.

"Maybe, but what I do isn't your decision!" She tried to yank her arm back but his crushing grip didn't even loosen.

The door opened and everyone turned. "Jesus Christ," Jax muttered taking in the scene before him. Nero looked furious, Primo agitated and Happy had Indiana's arm in a hold. "What the hell is going on?"

Nero quickly gave Jax the rundown of what happened to Irina. "We want Indiana to go find him and try to figure out where the hell Irina is."

"How the hell would she manage that?" Jax asked, he shook his head. "And why would he even be out if he has got the girl of his dreams locked up somewhere."

"Actually, Manning will be attending a charity auction tonight," Primo replied. He walked over to the desk and picked up a sheet of paper with the timetable. "His family hosts it. He has to be in attendance."

"And Indiana is exactly his type," Nero continued. "They could pass as sisters."

Indiana remembered the woman she had eaten lunch with, their conversation had been brief but even she had thought that they had a striking resemblance. Best to play it in their favour to get the woman back.

Her eyes trailed down to where Happy's hand still gripped her arm. Her heart clenched almost painfully for what they had once been. There had been a time where at the very least they had been friends- or perhaps he had just put up with her because of just who her father is.

"This is dangerous." Jax's hands rested on his hips. He didn't like the idea of putting Indiana Quinn in such a bad situation. Rane Quinn was not a man you wanted on your bad side. Still, they had to do something to get Irina back.

"I can do this," Indiana argued but she didn't turn to Jax, instead she looked right up at Happy. It felt imperative to her that she had Happy's blessing. If she could convince him, Jax would likely listen. "I can do this."

"We will keep an eye from a distance," Nero informed her. "We'll keep you safe."

"I bet I can get a wire so we can hear what is going on," Jax said. He wanted the best odds of getting both girls out unharmed. "I'll call Unser."

"Quinn is not going to be happy about this," Happy muttered looking down at Indiana. She had a pleased smile on her face upon his reluctant agreeance.

She blew her long bangs out of her big blue eyes and then grimaced when his words really hit her. "Please don't tell my dad."

Her words came right from her youth and Happy almost smiled remembering just how many secrets he'd kept from Quinn for her. He shook his head, last thing he wanted was to explain to Rane Quinn why his little girl was going to try and meet up with a man who stalked and kidnapped an escort.

Happy looked over at his President. "I will be on that protection detail."

Jax stared for a moment at the look of determination on the SAA's face. The determination wasn't alone, and it took a moment for Jax to recognize signs of worry on Happy's face.

Jax's eyes flicked over to Indiana, and to where Happy's hand still had a grip on her arm. Not for the first time, he wondered just what the heck happened between the two of them. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but Happy wasn't doing this just because of whose daughter she was. There was something much more between the two of them and he worried that it would cause problems in the future.

For now, he needed to worry about Diosa and getting the girl back. They needed the legitimate income badly. Despite the fact that he worried over Happy's ability to keep emotionally neutral around Indiana, a thing he thought he'd never worry about, he nodded and looked over at Nero. "You heard the man."

::

Chibs turned off his motorcycle that he'd pulled onto the side of the road. He quickly took out his vibrating cell phone and answered. "Yes?"

_"Save this number, Love." _

"Fi," he smiled as the affectionate shortened form of his wife's name left his lips. He sat back comfortably, still straddling his bike. "So this line is secure?"

"_Yes, brand new,"_ she insisted. _"It's good to hear your voice."_

"Good to hear yours." He loved the lilts in her voice, the softness of it. Despite everything with the club, he always found peace during their chats. "How are you and our girl?"

_"We're doing well. I'm eager for your next visit. Kerri too, girl won't stop talking about that café you always take her to." _

"She loves her sweets."

_"That she does." _Fiona responded. He heard something muffled, likely Fiona talking with her hand over the microphone. _"Oh for the love of-"_

More rustling and then a new breathless voice came on the line. _"Da! Hey!" _

He ran his hand through his hair. The sound of his daughter's voice pulled on his heartstrings. God, he missed his girls in such a way he physically ached. The brief phone calls kept him sane between visits that always felt short-lived. "Kerri! Good to hear from you, girl. Are you behaving for your Ma?"

_"Of course," _she promised_. "You've got to come and see the loft! We painted! It's spectacular!"_

"That's a fret," he had a hard time believing his girls could get all the painting done since the last time they'd talked they hadn't even picked out the colours. He found more Irish slang returning to him when he talked to his girls, probably because it was used often by Kerrianne, and occasionally by Fiona. "Ye didn't let your mother do the baseboards did you?"

_"Hey!"_ he heard Fiona's outraged voice in the background. He could still remember the baseboards in their first apartment, first of all she'd insisted they'd look fantastic in yellow (they didn't) and she couldn't paint in a straight line to save her life. Fantastic shot with a gun, shaky as a babe with a paintbrush. _"I heard that!"_

Kerrianne's laughter warmed his heart._ "Are you touched? No way! I did them,"_ Kerrianne sounded proud. _"Only got the walls in a couple spots but we got it sorted now."_

He heard a bit more rustling, a couple of words from both of his girls before an _'uh fine' _from Kerrianne. _"Ma wants the phone back. Hurry and come home, she's all bitchy and broody when you're not around."_

_"Kerrianne Aoife Larkin-Telford!"_

_"Ma! Really? The full name?" _

Chibs couldn't help but laugh, even as their bickering made him insanely homesick. While Charming remained home, his heart remained with his girls.

Static came on the line before a long winded sigh. _"Your daughter,"_ Fiona muttered.

_"Uncalled for!"_ Kerrianne shouted. _"Bye Da!"_

_"Feck off! Go to work!"_ Fiona replied cheerily. _"Have a nice night!" _The line remained silent for a moment. _"And she's gone… so what are you wearing?" _

Chibs laughed and shook his head. "I'm on my bike on the side of the road, this isn't the time for that game."

_"Come on, Filip," _Fiona's voice tempted him. The physical distance didn't lessen his reaction to her voice. _"I miss you, I wish you were here. I want to run my hands through your hair… down your chest-" _

"This is not the time, Fi," he groaned. He watched a couple of cars go by, a few joggers were sticking to the side of the road as they chatted loudly over their personal music players.

_"What a pity," _Fiona replied sounding wistful. He heard her sigh and then a slight hitch of breath before she moaned.

"You're a cruel woman," he commented wanting to hang up but unable to tear his ear away from the pleasured sounds she made to tease him.

_"Aye,"_ she sighed. _"But you love me." _

"I'll try and call you tonight," he said. He hated to make promises to her that he might not be able to keep.

_"I'll keep my phone with me,"_ she assured. _"I love you, Filip."_

"Love you too, Fi. Stay safe." He hung up his phone and felt he homesickness seep into his soul. If home is where the heart is, he remained painfully far away from his.

::

Toy trucks laid scattered along the living room floor leaving the place look like a tornado had gone through. Tara smiled, she wouldn't have it any other way.

She watched as Abel would point out buttons on the little fire truck and Thomas would press them and became overjoyed by the noises it made or the quick flash of lights.

"Are you boys having fun?" Tara asked coming in with the basket of laundry that needed to be folded. Usually the chore annoyed her, but now she felt immensely grateful that she could do her own laundry.

"Yeah," Abel replied. The blonde boy looked so much like his father. He pointed to another button and Thomas pushed it. The toy truck's siren played for a few seconds and Thomas clapped his hands together. "Where is Dad?"

Tara remembered Jax getting a call and leaving. Business, he'd said. She felt annoyed, even after all she'd been through the club still came first. Knowing that she would always be second to the club was a bitter pill to swallow.

"He's away," Tara skimmed over. "What do you want for lunch?"

"Milk and cookies?" Abel tried with a sweet grin.

Tara's eyes narrowed. "Now, now, just because that worked once with your dad, doesn't mean it's going to work with me. You need to eat good food so you can grow up big and strong like your dad. That's what you want, right?"

Abel nodded enthusiastically. "Milk is good."

"Yes, but cookies are not," Tara laughed as she folded up one of Abel's shirts. "What do you say about grilled cheese sandwiches?"

"Can I have cookies after?" Abel remained persistent.

Tara smiled. "Sure, after you finish your sandwich you can have a couple cookies."

"Okay," Abel replied.

Thomas turned as Tara stood up. The toddler reached. "Ma, Mama."

Tara's eyes welled up as she stared down at her son.

"Mom, mom!" Abel shouted excitedly. "Tommy spoke!"

"I know, I know," Tara's voice trembled under the weight of her joy.

"Mama, Mama," Thomas clenched and unclenched his hands over and over in a grabbing motion toward Tara.

She walked over and picked him up. He smiled widely and rested his head against her shoulder. Tara held him close. No matter what happened between her and Jax, nothing would ever again be separated her from her sons.

::

Happy tried to tell himself that he had insisted upon being on the protection detail because he had been good friends with Quinn for so long. He tried to tell himself that he was doing this because of Indiana's status as Mac's Old Lady. The more he tried to convince himself that that was the case the more he felt like a liar.

Unser had come through with the wire. Happy held the device in his hands. Nothing fancy, certainly nothing new, Charming PD didn't have much of a budget. He knocked on Indiana's office door, she'd continued working through the day while the men had worked on getting her into the charity auction. Oswald had come through with a spare ticket, although it had come at a price of an undisclosed favour. The sons would honour it, whenever Oswald called it in.

The door opened and Indiana stared up at him. She released the door and turned back around. He pushed the door open enough to get in and shut it behind himself. He watched her as she walked back to her desk and sat back down. "Are you getting anywhere?"

"Every new statement I look at, every number I enter gets me closer," Indiana spat. She sat down at the desk and looked down at the sheets of paper. "I can do my job."

He put up his hands, surprised by her sudden onslaught. "What the fuck is eating you?"

Her eyes cut to him. "Do you think I'm inept?"

"No." He thought of Indiana as many things, inept wasn't even near the list.

"Then why did you fight so hard to keep me out of it?" Her hands slammed down on the desk and she stood. "I can help her!"

He remained silent as he studied her fighting stance. Her blue eyes were like a stormy ocean, angry and turbulent. Few women's anger even touched him. Gemma Teller-Morrow could be a threat when angered. Tink had a friendly and gentle disposition but God help whoever stood in her way. Helena, one of Quinn's ex's created havoc, luckily she was now dead and buried.

Indiana's anger didn't put him on the defensive but it did move something in him. The spark of her old lively spirit just pulled him to her like she was his gravity. He walked over and put his hands on the desk mirroring her pose.

"You should be kept out of it," he replied fighting to keep his voice calm.

"Why?" She demanded leaning forward just a bit more. "I am the most logical choice to resolve this matter."

His body felt heated under her glare. The low, simmering anger in her voice did something stupid to his insides. He tried to ignore his body's response, tried to block her from his mind but couldn't quite manage. He hated her business attire. The black tailored slacks, the tucked in button-up white blouse didn't suit her. His eyes followed the line of the collar down to the first button, but since she was leaning forward he got a small peak of the swells of her breasts. He forced his eyes to meet hers.

"This isn't what you were brought here for," Happy growled.

"I was brought in to help," Indiana argued passionately.

"You were brought in to sit behind a desk-"

"I-"

"Stop try-"

"You need-"

His hand clasped over the front of her neck and pulled her closer as he leaned in. He felt her panicked breath and his hairs stood on end.

"Shut up," his voice rasped as his eyes narrowed at her.

Her wide eyes stared up at him and he noticed the distinct lack of fear.

"I don't like that you're going in there. I don't like that you're going to be in danger. I don't like that you seem to have a lack of self-preservation."

"I-"

His hand tightened. "I'm not finished," he snarled at her. Her eyes stared at him, despite everything that had transpired between them he couldn't find a hint of fear. Even with his hand tightly clenched around her throat, he could sense her absolute trust. His attraction hit him like a punch to the gut. His lust for her had been long ignored and pushed away and it came back with ferocity.

Despite every reason to push her away he found himself too caught up in the familiar scent of her perfume, the feel of her skin. The air seemed different in the room, heady with pent up desires locked up for too long.

"I'm not finished," he repeated right before his lips crashed down on hers. He dominated her, demanded from her as his hand slid from her neck to thread into fist into her hair and used the grip to pull her closer.

Her hands hit his chest and he couldn't tell if she was trying to maintain some semblance of balance or to push him away. Either way, he took what he wanted.

She bit his lip, but it wasn't hard enough to cause any harm. His hand ran up her side over the crisp fabric of her professional blouse. He wanted to ruin the image, he wanted her clothes to be rumbled and in a disarray on the floor, he wanted her hair to be dishevelled, he wanted her more than he would ever admit.

He could feel her try to pull back but his fist in her hair tightened and dragged her closer. He cursed the desk between their bodies. His hand groped her breast, she wasn't the bustiest woman he'd ever had, in fact she didn't even make up a proper handful but she still managed to get him twisted up in a way no other woman ever had. He didn't understand it, couldn't explain it if he tried.

Once again, she attempted to pull away but he held tight and pinched her nipple. She gasped and he took the opportunity to explore her mouth. Her tongue dueled against his and he fed off the desperation in her eager kisses.

He pulled on her again but heard her body hit against the desk and felt her blow out a breath in pain. His hand fell from her breast and his hand untangled from her hair. His jeans felt uncomfortably tight. He looked at her, she appeared properly tousled. Her hair twisted and knotted in places where his hand had been. Her shirt looked a little wrinkled and she hurried to set herself to rights.

He saw her hands tremble as she brushed a hand over her shirt and then threaded her fingers through her hair trying to brush it back to straight. Her face had a pink tinge to it, and her eyes looked close to tears. "What was that?" she shook her head and her hands fisted in her own hair giving a slight pull. "What was that?"

He ran his hand over his face as the shame and guilt hit him just as it had when he'd stripped her down and had his way with her years previous. He couldn't understand the attraction that overruled his common sense. Sure, she was beautiful, smart, and funny but only the good looking part had ever really been something he considered when he wanted to get in bed with a woman. No other woman ever made him lose his common sense just by being. Sure, he wanted to fuck her senseless but he should have the brains not to do it. He ran his hands over his head and fought to get his body under control.

"I'm with Mac." Her words were full of desperation, of shame and guilt. "Fuck," she whispered as she collapsed into the chair.

He turned to her, watched her look to the ceiling and in the light he could see how watery her eyes looked. Her unshed tears at least cooled him off enough to feel comfortable in his jeans again. The pain on her face drudged up his instinct to protect her. The problem remained that the person he currently needed to protect her from was himself.

"The wire," she said, refusing to meet his gaze. "Do you have it?"

"Yes."

"Send in Lyla," her voice even and neutral. "She can help me get it on."

"I ca-"

"No," she cut him off sharply. Her temper flared once again, her eyes cold and angry when she looked at him. "I think you've done more than enough. Send in Lyla."

The room felt claustrophobic and he was grateful to escape it. He shut the door behind himself and leaned against it for a second. "Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered running his hands over his face. He needed to get himself sorted. His reaction to her was unnatural. He shook his head. He could deal with it after they got Irina back- if they got Irina back. Happy didn't have much faith in the plan.

He found Lyla at the front desk. She'd stuck around to help, the kids were with Gemma. Gemma happened to be one of the few people rebellious Ellie listened to. He put the wire on her desk. "Go help Indiana with this."

Lyla nodded and picked up the wire. She waved over a busty dark skinned woman, Happy couldn't recall her name but he recognized the wicked curves of her gorgeous full figure. She smiled at Happy as she always did. "You on shift tonight?" she asked as she took Lyla's seat.

"I'm working elsewhere," he told her. He took her as a distraction, a much needed one.

"Till when?" she asked.

"Don't know."

"Hmm," she replied before grabbing a sticky note and scribbling on it. She took it off and held out the paper for Happy. Her number and name was printed neatly. Desiree. "I'm a night owl," she said. "You should call me when you're done… working elsewhere." She winked at him as Lyla returned with Indiana.

His mouth went dry as he caught sight of Indiana's athletic figure in a fire engine red dress that clung to her like a second skin. The straps were two fingers wide, the hem length ended a bit before Indiana's fingers and she already started trying to pull it lower.

"She's wired and ready to go," Lyla informed Happy, her eyes skipping over to Primo. "Be safe."

Nero met the group just outside of the door along with three of the Byz-Lats that he trusted most. He looked to Indiana. "Thank you for doing this."

Indiana nodded in response.

"Let's go," Primo said. "You're already going to be fashionably late."

Happy saw through her façade of courage and could see her nerves. "You'll be safe," he whispered as they wall walked toward the parking lot.

"I know," she replied softly.

He faltered in step. He expected her ire, he expected what happened in the office to have shaken her trust in him. He stared at her back, watched the sensual sway of her hips as she walked. "I'm going to Hell," he muttered to himself before catching up in three easy strides.

::

**Thanks for reading!**


	17. Abhorrence

Indiana felt exposed in the dress. She tried to ignore the hemline and focus on the task at hand. It didn't help that people stared openly at her. She heard whispers as she moved through the swarms of people. _Hussy. Tart. Tramp._ Being the daughter of a biker, she'd heard worse, been called worse. She'd sorted it with her fists most of the time, demanded respect of Croweaters and Old Ladies, but this was a different world and she wasn't sure how to navigate it. She knew for certain she couldn't just knock the rich woman who pursed her lips and shook her head as she looked Indiana over.

She closed her eyes for a second and re-focussed on her goal. Taking a steadying breath she looked around seeking out the man from the picture Primo had shown her. She pictured Joshua Manning in her mind. Sharp angular face, dark brown eyes, chestnut coloured hair cut close and styled, slender nose, sensually shaped mouth. Remarkably handsome, she couldn't help but admit. Not her type, but handsome.

People were walking around looking at the items to bid on. The silent auction had beautiful jewellery, extravagant home furnishings and gorgeous paintings. Indiana found the painting Oswald wanted and checked to see if the last bid was under his final line. She quickly bid for him and then continued on her way.

A waiter offered her champagne and she took a glass with a thankful smile. She didn't intend on drinking it. She had a low alcohol tolerance. She had a horrible habit of spilling secrets when she got drinking. Still, she carried the flute of champagne around with her as a prop, sometimes she pretended to take a sip but she never let the drink past her lips.

Nearly everyone else wore elegant clothing, muted colours. Most of the women wore their hair up in intricate up-dos. She stood out in the bold red dress that showed off her toned and tan legs. Her small black purse hung on a silver chain. The weight of it indicated more than just a wallet and lipstick. Her long hair cascaded down her back and she felt a tug on it.

"My apologies, Miss," she turned and found herself face to face with Joshua Manning. "You have beautiful hair."

She pushed her long blonde hair back and gave him a smile. "Thank you," she replied demurely.

"I haven't seen you here before," he said adjusting the jacket of his wonderfully tailored gray suit. "I would definitely remember someone of such beauty." He flirted shamelessly, his kind words made her hand tremble. She held the champagne flute in both hands in hopes to appear steady. "What is your name?"

"Indiana, I'm here on behalf of my boss, he regretfully couldn't be here," she replied as vaguely as possible. "You're wearing such a handsome suit… oh, sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"How rude of me to not have introduced myself, Joshua Manning," he extended his hand to her and she allowed him to take her hand and instead of shaking it as she'd expected it he brought her knuckles to his lips. "My family runs this auction." He still held her hand and she took refuge in the crowd around them. "All proceeds go to local charities."

She flashed him what she hoped looked like a flirty smile and not a grimace. "Here I was thinking we were getting to be friends, not just a mark for some money."

He grinned and she couldn't help but wonder how such a nice looking man could be such a monster. Then again, she knew some scary looking men who she absolutely adored, although they remained dangerous, they represented safety to her.

"Sorry," he said as he ran his thumb over her knuckles. "I'm afraid the business line has been drilled into me."

"I understand," she replied turning away and walking a few steps thankful that his hand released her. She felt his presence directly behind her, the heat of him left her feeling cold.

"Do you like this necklace? Its late eighteenth century," he informed her, his hand burning against her lower back. She figured that he must have grown in confidence after taking Irina, to flirt so shamelessly, to lay his hands on her so quickly, or perhaps he was just so full of his own importance that he thought himself invincible. "Truly one of a kind."

"It is beautiful," she whispered and her soft voice drew him closer. She hoped that he didn't try to get a look down her dress. It had a modest neckline but between her breasts was the only place Lyla could see fit to put the transmitter, the bulkiest piece of the wire she wore, the tight dress didn't leave any other option.

"If you think this is beautiful, you should see the gardens here," he enticed with a small smile. "Come with me, Indiana, I am sure you'll find them positively breathtaking."

"Oh, I don't know," she played nervous. "My boss wanted me to do some bidding."

"You'll have plenty of time," he insisted. "Besides, you want to come in last minute for the things you really want."

She forced a smile as she fell into step with him. "Well, it couldn't hurt." Her heart thumped so hard she could feel it, she worried that the guys could hear it over the wire. She tried to concentrate on the fact that the guys were listening. That Happy and Nero and Primo and the other Byz-Lats were out in a van listening in. Nothing would happen. They knew everything.

She left her flute of champagne on a table before walking out the door he held open for her. The gentle breeze was warm but she shivered anyway. A moment later, Joshua's coat hung over her shoulders.

"That should keep you warm," he said softly as he put his arm over her shoulders. With most men, the gesture was uncomfortable due to her height this was no exception. Joshua stood a few inches over her and the arm felt possessive.

"Thank you," she whispered trying to keep the fear at bay as the door finally shut with a click and the noise of the auction died. The silence in the gardens disturbed her. She looked around, pretending to be staring at the shrubs and flowers, but instead she looked for someone, anyone. Another person would surely deter him from trying too hard with her. She couldn't find a single person.

"The gardens are off limits," he said as if reading his mind. "Obviously not to me or my family." His thumb rubbed little circles on her shoulder.

She took quick purposeful strides away from him and out from under his arm. She felt like she could finally breathe again as she approached a beautiful flower in full bloom. "You weren't exaggerating, these gardens are exceptional."

"I'm glad you enjoy it."

Her hand slid down the chain of her purse, her fingers curled around it and lifted just slightly. The weight of it comforted her.

"Are you new in these parts? I usually know everyone and their assistants," Joshua commented and she could feel his eyes on her.

"Yes," she replied. Self-preservation warred with her words. She wanted to throw in her last name, hide behind the protection it came with. She knew she needed to seem vulnerable, alone. It terrified her. "I'm not close with my family. I used to work in New York and when I was ready to move on my old boss gave me a few contacts to look in when I got to California." The lies made her stomach churn. She felt more vulnerable with every word that left her mouth.

"Surely you've made plenty of friends since your arrival."

She smiled a little shyly and shook her head. "No. I'm still unpacking boxes and I work so much I hardly have time to even go out for groceries." She didn't care for lying. Mostly, she'd learnt over the years to avoid answering questions she didn't want to answer. She had a family of outlaws, she could do stone cold silence for days if need be. Lying required finesse so it wouldn't blow back. She tried to put in enough details that it would be believable but not so many that she'd get trapped by it.

"Too bad," he said plucking a large red flower from the shrub and tucking it behind her ear. "Your boss must be looking forward to your return."

She realized with a surge of panic that he was fishing. What ties did she have? Would anyone care if she went missing? Her stomach tightened into knots and she felt sick.

His hand curved from the flower, under her jaw line, his fingertips trailing over her throat. His hand where Happy's had been hours ago made her heart speed up. The thought of Happy's hands on her and the way they wound into her hair, his lips dominating her, the way he possessed her completely had her struggling to keep her head clear and focused.

Her tongue peeked out to wet her suddenly dry lips. "Oh, he's away," she said distantly as her hand came up to touch the soft petals of the flower in her hair. She did her best to stay in the 'now' instead of having her mind skid back to the office with Happy. "He has some business in Europe."

Joshua looked pleased and she swallowed hard at the shark like grin upon his face. "He left you all on your own?"

"Oh no," she shook her head. "I couldn't possibly do all the work on my own. There are gardeners and cleaners and accountants. I just man the phone and make appointments for when he's back, or forward important calls. Simple really, unimportant." She put a finger to her lips. "But don't tell him that, I'll be out of a job."

She almost wished she'd drank that entire glass of champagne. Her nerves were fried. Lies were coming out of her mouth half thought through and half made up on the spot. She hoped the wire worked. Even with it on, she felt remarkably alone. She had ever confidence that Happy wouldn't let anything happen to her. Regardless of how messed up their relationship had been over the years, the fact that he above all saw her as Rane Quinn's daughter would ensure her protection.

Joshua's eyes drank her in and her hand clenched around the chain on her purse. "I'm sure your boss understands your worth." The way his eyes honed in on her body had her hands shaking. She understood just how he measured worth.

She knew he had grown up rich, lived a lavish lifestyle and believed himself to be above everyone else. He believed he could have whatever he wanted. She wasn't stupid, by the look on his face, she knew that she was currently his want. Subtly she lifted the chain to her purse just to feel the reassuring weight once again.

Desperate to have the attention off of herself for a moment she turned away. "These lilies are beautiful."

His hand ran through her hair and it shot a chill down her spine. "They pale in comparison to you."

A nervous laugh burst from her lips.

"What is so funny?" he appeared amused.

She shrugged. "I've only heard lines like that in movies."

"I don't believe you," he whispered as his hands skimmed along her hips and pulled her a little closer. The jacket slipped off and his eyes predatory as he stared down at her. He didn't have too much extra height on her, but he still managed to make her feel small. "Surely a woman like you is used to being paid such compliments."

She could honestly say she wasn't. Sure, Mac paid her compliments with pretty words. Her mother did on occasion. Most terms of endearment came out a little different from bikers. Her father used to call her his 'little anarchist.' Cricket would fondly call her a 'shit disturber.' Her godfather Harry occasionally called her 'girl,' which was as affectionate as Harry got. To everyone else she was just 'Indie' or 'Quinn's kid.' She didn't get paid compliments, or have people fawn over her.

She couldn't find words, her throat felt thick and her nerves made her mouth dry. She managed to shake her head, and stared up at him. One thing she did know how to play was how innocent her eyes made her look.

"Such a pity," he whispered. "One such as you should be adored. Lavished with words, flowers, pretty sparkly things that women love so much."

The way his hands shifted and smoothed over the curve of her hip. The sweetness surprised her. He had kidnapped an escort. She'd expected a strong hand, a vile temper. She felt her breath felt choked and she gasped in a breath and held it trying not to give her panic away.

She blinked quickly and tried to put a smile upon her face. "That's very sweet of you to say," she just barely managed to get the words out but they fluctuated in strength.

"Let me get my assistant to put in those bids for you," Joshua insisted as one hand came up to caress her face, his thumb running along her cheekbone. "Let me show you my personal gardens. They aren't quite to the scale of these, but they are quite exquisite."

Her heart threatened to burst from her chest and every warning bell went off. She ignored her body's instinct to flee. "That sounds wonderful."

::

Happy radiated with rage but he kept a lid on it. Every word from Joshua Manning's mouth put his teeth on edge. The thought of Indiana being so close to that man made his hand itch for his gun.

_"I could follow in my car,"_ Indiana's voice came through the speakers.

_"Nonsense, no point in taking two vehicles,"_ Joshua's voice came in clear which indicated he remained very close to Indiana. _"Besides, your keys are with the valet."_

Her sharp intake of breath had Happy leaning forward in his seat wondering what happened that he couldn't see.

_"So what do you drive?"_ Indiana asked, her voice quick. Happy knew she was trying to get the attention shifted.

_"That's my car there,"_ Joshua's voice filled the back of the van.

Indiana's whistle got distorted in the speakers. _"Maserati."_ Happy found himself oddly proud that she knew her car symbols. _"And in red, my favourite."_

"Good girl," Nero whispered not wanting to interrupt further information.

"Shouldn't be hard to follow a red Maserati," Primo nodded.

_"You know your cars!"_ Joshua sounded surprised.

_"I know _nice _cars,"_ Indiana's voice teased.

_"I can show you all kinds of _nice things_." _

The way the man spoke left Happy on edge. He still couldn't figure out how he had allowed her to get into such a situation. Naturally, Indiana's independent streak would have insisted she do whatever she damn well pleased but he didn't like it. It didn't matter that they could hear her, she remained with that man and it left him on the edge of the knife.

"We need to get ready to move," Nero said. He turned to Happy. "You staying in the van, or are you following?"

"Following," Happy's voice seemed even raspier than usual. He needed out of the claustrophobic van.

_"So just where do you live?"_ Indiana's voice followed him as he opened the doors to the back of the van.

Happy paused. Leaving where he could hear her voice almost seemed like abandonment.

"She's got him alone," Primo said looking directly at Happy. The man seemed to see right through bullshit and get right into the heart of things. "He's not going to do anything to her while they're in the car. Too dangerous. He's used to control and he sees himself in the power position with her."

Happy gave a sharp nod and knew that Nero's first in command was right. He quickly shut the door before he lost the nerve.

::

What kind of range did the wire have? Indiana didn't know. She continued to check the rear view mirror but she never spotted another set of headlights. What if the thing hadn't even been turned on right? _Nonsense!_ Her mind scolded. Nero had insisted upon three checks in the back of the van before letting her go in.

She took in a deep breath, the scent of the leather interior and Joshua's sharp and spicy cologne greeted her. She knew she needed to keep making contents about their location, this way the van could keep following at a safe distance.

"Wellstead Heights," she said as they drove past a large stone display carved with the name. She knew the neighbourhood was exclusive and expensive. She'd read about it once, but never saw it with her own eyes and had never expected to. She could live to be a hundred and never make the kind of money it would take to own a home there. She stared out at the iron gates, glamorous fountains, immaculate gardens and enormous mansions. She let out a breath. "These homes are stunning," she whispered.

"I'm glad that you approve, Indiana," Joshua replied. He flicked on the blinker and as they turned. He reached up and scowled. "I haven't gotten around to getting a gate opener for this car. It's new," he explained as he pressed the button for the window and it glided down. He reached out and Indiana leaned forward slightly and watched him use the keypad.

_1834._ She held onto the number, repeated it over in her mind. She needed to find a way to say it so the guys would know.

She looked forward and her mouth dropped open. The driveway went straight in and then became circular. In the centre a stone fountain consisted of three gorgeous women who stood back to back with water jugs on their shoulders that continuously poured into the basin. She knew she'd get lost if left to her own devices in the mansion. You could scream on one side and not be heard on the other. The thought put ice in her veins and sent a chill down her spine.

Joshua parked the car and got out. Indiana grabbed her bag and he opened the door for her. His hand extended and she forced herself to take it. She shot him a weak smile and thanked him softly.

She stood beside him and stared at the fountain. One hand slipped behind her back and her forefinger and middle finger crossed, she shot a brief prayer up to whoever might be listening that the men in the van would understand. "That fountain must have taken like _eighteen _years to construct!" She marvelled, she couldn't deny the beauty in their stone faces. They stared blankly, each subtly different. She walked a bit closer studying the details of the tall, rail thin nude woman with long hair. The second one had a more womanly figure with generous curves. The third stood shorter than the others with wild and curly hair. "_Three_ very beautiful ladies." Her hands ran over the details of the basin as she walked along. "These detailed etchings must have taken _four_ years alone."

Joshua smiled widely and she felt like prey. Her body hummed with the need to run but she forced her feet to plant and stay still.

His hand gripped around the back of her neck, over her hair. "You seem enamoured with them."

"Who doesn't enjoy the female figure?" Indiana shot him a coy smile and turned slightly out of his grasp. She returned to stand before the one that she thought resembled Irina's body shape and reached out, her fingertips grazing the cool stone of the woman's knee. "Something so beautiful deserves the attention, you must agree otherwise it wouldn't be out here where you get to see it so often."

His smile showed rows of bleached white and perfectly straight teeth. "Sounds to me like you can appreciate a woman, but you wouldn't be here if you couldn't appreciate a man as well," he said grabbing her by the hips and pulling her flush against his muscular body. "I like the way you talk, the words you chose, your voice. It's alluring, much like your scent," his face buried in her hair, nuzzling against her neck. Her body tightened, her hand gripped tightly to the chain of her purse. Her heart sped up till she felt sure that the microphone would pick up the sound. He drew back and looked down upon her. "You're such a pretty little thing." His hands ran up her sides and she bit down on her tongue hoping the pain would help her think clearly. "You deserve to be worshipped."

"I thought you wanted to show me the gardens," her voice sounded husky even to her own ears. She tried to control her breathing but knew her breaths were shortened and edging on panic.

"How about we go inside first," he grabbed her hand and started to lead her. "Get ourselves a drink first."

She knew she didn't have much of a say. He had all the power. She looked back over her shoulder at the closed gate and felt incredibly alone.

::

"No," Primo insisted as he grabbed Happy's arm. Happy's hand balled into a fist as he whirled on the man. Primo glared and pointed. "Sensors. You jump the wall and he will know."

"He has Indiana in there. Perhaps even Irina," Nero said, the Byz-Lats standing behind him waiting for orders. "We need to do this smart."

"There is a key pad," one of Nero's men mentioned. "Anyone know how to bypass it?" He looked around but no one spoke up.

"She had to have said something," Happy insisted his mind remaining clear despite his ire. "She's too smart to let herself get trapped."

"I saw Manning reach out and hit the numbers," their driver said.

"Indiana would have looked," Happy insisted, one hand brushing over his head in a rare display of his agitation. "We have the code."

"Numbers," Primo muttered to himself before jumping back into the back of the van. Happy walked over to the open doors and stared at Primo who started to work the recording software to go back. "She sounded different in one section," he told Happy. "Saying stuff that didn't really fit into the flow of their conversation. She was forcing it. There were numbers."

_"That fountain must have taken like eighteen years to construct!"_ A pause had a little bit of static. _"Three very beautiful ladies. These detailed etchings must have taken four years alone."_

Happy let out a breath. "Smart girl," he whispered under his breath. He and Primo returned to the rest of them. "One eight three four is the passcode," Happy said. He looked to Primo and gave him a nod. Primo nodded in return.

"Stealth," Nero said to his men with a warning look. "We go in quiet."

Happy felt the adrenaline coursing through his system as the men started to move through the cover of night.

::

Joshua passed Indiana a glass of champagne. She gave a smile and raised the glass in a salute. She took the smallest of sips and forced herself not to cringe. When she did drink, she went straight for the hard liquor. She couldn't find dignity in fruity girly drinks. Classy options like wine and champagne never even occurred to her as a thought.

"How is it?" he asked her.

"Great," she lied with a smile. "This is a beautiful home you have. I half expected a butler to pop out and hand us champagne." Instead, they stood alone in the kitchen in the eerie silence.

"I have a few cleaners who come in, chefs for special occasions," Joshua informed her. "I am a private person though, I prefer having my home empty." He took a sip of the champagne and took her by the elbow, leading her into a back sitting room. The far wall consisted of floor to ceiling glass and they had a perfect view of the gorgeous garden. "Figured we'd stay in since it's getting a bit chilly out. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold." He flicked a switch and the fireplace lit up casting a warming glow on the room.

"How thoughtful," Indiana replied through clenched teeth. Outside, she felt some semblance of safety. She'd always been a runner, the outdoors gave her a sense of freedom she didn't have in the room.

"Here," he said, taking her elbow once again he guided her to a two person seat, it had a great view of the garden and got the warmth off the fireplace. "Take a seat."

She sat down and listened. No sound but the occasional crackle of the fireplace and the movement of Joshua as he settled down beside her. What if the Byz-Lats hadn't understood the numbers she said? What if they'd lost the signal, or lost the car on the way? She tried to convince herself that she just needed to stall, they were there and they were coming. _Happy is here, Happy is coming, _her mind held tightly to the thought.

"It was so nice of you to invite me here," Indiana said smiling at the gardens, finding a small amount of peace in their beauty. "Did I thank you?"

His hand caressed her face, sweeping her long blonde hair over the gentle curve of her shoulder. She stiffened under his touch. "I don't think you did," his voice held a playful edge but his eyes had a darkness that shook her to her core. He liked the power, she sensed that much. She wondered what kind of things he'd gotten away with because of his position. He turned slightly in the seat to face her, one hand remained on her shoulder, and the other reached across her body to settle lightly on her hip. He didn't hold her tightly, but she felt trapped.

Dread slammed into her heart. His eyes raked over her body, mentally undressing her. She couldn't help the tremor of fright that ran through her body. A small smirk curved his lips. "It's rude of you not to thank me properly, but you've been such a sweet girl that I'll let you make it up to me."

She froze, her wide eyes staring at him as her mind drifted around unable to remain focused. She could feel the impending panic attack. Her throat started to feel tight. Her temples throbbed. Her stomach churned. Her heart gave a near painful squeeze.

"I d-don't know wh-what you mean." She bit down hard on her tongue. When had she last stuttered? She knew when and shot down the memory before it could get a hold on her.

His hand threaded gently, so gently through her hair. "Yes you do," he replied, his hand grazing up from her hip and her hand quickly closed over his stopping his progress up. He started to go back down and she let go not wanting skin to skin contact with him. His head tilted slightly as he studied her face. "You are so beautiful," he said, and she thought it to be more to himself than to her. His hand ran over the red dress down her thigh until he found skin. Her hand reached out once more to lay over his. "You want this."

"I think I should go," Indiana said sternly. Enough was enough. The guys should be around, and if not, she saw no point in Joshua Manning having a second pawn to play with. "I want to return to the auction now."

"No." One word, complete refusal. She realized then that there had been a part of her that didn't really believe that a man would hold a woman against her will. There was a part of her that hadn't believed that he'd been obsessed with Irina or that he'd taken her. She didn't really believe that a man with his looks, wealth and power would need to kidnap a woman to have.

The truth slammed home. He had Irina and now he had her too.

She had a good sense of fight or flight. Croweaters she fought as a matter of respect, it had always been expected of her. This time her instinct went toward flight, she needed to get as far away from Joshua Manning as she could, as fast as she could. She'd felt his muscles while pressed up against her, she could throw a punch, her dad had taught her that much, but in a down and dirty fight with a man she didn't have confidence in her ability to win.

His hands still remained light on her, as if his refusal to take her anywhere would be enough to keep her with him. Maybe he could boss other women around, but not her.

Her hand rested lightly on the arm of the small loveseat and she tightened her hold. She took a deep breath and then jumped from the seat using her hand on the arm to give her an extra push that got her out of Joshua's hands when they tightened. She got only three steps before she got jerked back by her hair and her feet slid out from under her. She landed on her bottom and her hands went instinctively to her head trying to hold her hair as he gave it a yank and dragged her across the floor by it. The scream ripped from her throat and tears burned in her eyes, white stars momentarily blotched her vision.

The dragging stopped, but one hand remained in her hair. It took a second to realize he'd crouched down behind her, his chest against her back. His hand wrapped around her, just under her breasts. "Now, now," Joshua's voice remained light, almost playful and her stomach lurched. "Be a good girl, Indiana. You're my guest. You will respect me in my own home."

She felt a tear slide down her face. His hand remained tight in her hair but it didn't hurt. His thumb grazed the underside of her breast and her breath hitched as she tried not to cry.

"You're enjoying this," Joshua growled in her ear. "You want me."

Her breath became laboured as her throat felt like it was closing in. She thought of Irina, that inadvertently, she had put the woman into this situation. The self-blame tore her up inside.

_They aren't coming! They'd be here if they were coming! They weren't able to follow the car! They weren't able to figure out the passcode! _She gritted her teeth at the onslaught of thoughts. They weren't going to help her. If she wouldn't get help from the cavalry, she'd get out of the situation herself.

She forced herself to relax in his arms with the hope that he would loosen his hold enough for her to make another break for it. She sucked a breath into her lungs that burned and held it for a second before she slowly let it out.

"That's a good girl," Joshua's words came with warm breath against the shell of her ear. "You're such a good girl."

Her lungs burned. Throat closed. Temples throbbed. Memories bombarded.

_Good girl, such a good sweet girl. _

His hand slid over the slight swell of her breast and his thumb smoothed over the material of the dress. A pitiful sob escaped her lips. The air evacuated her lungs didn't return, she kept trying to inhale but never seemed able to take in enough air.

Joshua's hands weren't alone. Ghosts reached out, soft caresses from the past mingled with that of the present. Joshua growled and her mind refocused when he pulled her dress away from her skin and stared over her shoulder down her top.

"You fucking bitch!" He grabbed her by the throat, moving swiftly out of the way as he slammed her head down on the marble floor. "You fucking little bitch!"

Her nails clawed at his arm in desperation to get breath. She pried enough space to get a hold of a pressure point and twisted just like her father taught her. It bought her a brief respite and she gasped air into her burning lungs.

She could deal with anger. She kicked out and hit him in the side. She scrambled for her bag and opened the magnetic clasp. He grabbed her by the ankle and she flipped onto her back and kicked with her other foot nailing him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose and dripped on the floor as he howled. She rolled onto her hands and knees, she crawled desperately to her bag.

Happy had put the device in her bag with a stern glare that told her she best not argue. Her hand grabbed a hold and she felt safe, like a part of him was there with her.

She heard Joshua's stomping footsteps and she whirled around blindly while holding the trigger on the stun gun. It caught Joshua in the upper thigh. The man stopped mid-step, jerked a bit, a mangled sound escaped his lips before he fell to the ground.

With the device still in hand, she scrambled backwards with the need to have space between them. Her back hit the wall and she gasped in breaths staring at the body for any signs that he might get up.

Unrelenting panic stabbed through her. Her lungs felt raw as she hyperventilated. Her vision tunneled to Joshua Manning on the floor.

::

He heard her breaths first. It sounded like she breathed through a straw. He thought he'd find her hurt, that there would be blood. His mind conjured horrific images of the beautiful woman sprawled out beaten and broken. He rushed into the room ahead of the others and followed the sound of her breath.

He watched her chest heave. In her hand, the stun gun he had provided. He took another step closer and followed her intense gaze to Joshua Manning. He got a sick pleasure seeing him bleeding and drooling on the floor.

"You hurt?" he asked Indiana as he went to her and crouched down to her left.

She didn't respond. Her eyes didn't even turn toward him. Happy looked her over, no blood, except for on her one shoe, no bruises or cuts. Her neck looked a little red and anger surged through him.

"Indiana," he snapped at her, his voice loud and rough.

She still didn't acknowledge his presence. He turned over to where Nero and Primo were tying up Joshua Manning before he regained consciousness.

The sound of her strangled breath brought his attention back to her. "Indiana," he snapped and when she still didn't turn he grabbed her by the chin and forcefully made her look at him.

Her big blue eyes were wide. Terrified. Her body trembled and her chest still heaved with every quick, short breath she took. He hated the man who had put that look on her face. Wanted to cut him to ribbons, and keep him alive the entire time he flayed the skin off.

"Stop it," Happy demanded. "You're fine."

Tears welled in her eyes but the breaths didn't slow down. He figured if she kept it up, she'd pass right out. "Stop it right fucking now," he growled at her, his hands on her shoulders and his fingers bit into her skin. "You. Are. Fine."

A sob escaped her lips and she took three quick inhales but couldn't get enough breath into her lungs.

He did the only thing he could think of. He slapped her across the face. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to leave the print of his hand behind. The room froze for a moment and he could feel the eyes of the Byz-Lats on him.

She stopped breathing entirely. Her head had jerked to the side upon being slapped and now slowly turned back. Her eyes held confusion as she stared at him. She took in a breath, deep and normal, she let it out and breathed in again. "What the fuck?" Her voice hoarse and had the bite of anger.

He had the overwhelming urge to run his hands through her hair, pull her to him, kiss those sternly pressed lips. He shoved the desire down and locked it up. "You're welcome," he snapped back at her. He shook his head. "You hurt?"

Her head throbbed, her hand went to the back of her head where it had been slammed against the floor. No blood but a bump already stood out. She shook her head. "I'm alright."

Happy had noticed her inspection. He grabbed her upper arm and forced her forward enough that he could run his hand over her head, and he felt the large bump. He let her go and stood. He turned toward Joshua, his hands in fists. "Motherfucker."

"Don't Hap," Nero stepped between Happy and Joshua. "We need to question this guy."

Happy wanted to be there. He wanted to question. He turned back to Indiana, sitting on the floor in that blood red dress, a large bump on her head, a vulnerability in her eyes as she caught his gaze and held it. "Indie got knocked in the head," Happy said turning to face Nero. "I want her at the clubhouse."

"The agreemen-"

"Fuck the agreement," Happy raged. "She's an asset to the Sons. If someone is watching Diosa, and they've followed us this far then they already know she got dragged into this little game. It would be logical to keep her safe at the clubhouse after everything that's gone on. We won't want to take her to the hospital anyway, Tara needs to see if she has a concussion."

Nero turned to Primo who shrugged and then nodded. Nero nodded back and turned back to Happy. "She's all yours."

::

**This has got to be the longest chapter I have ever written ever. Over 13 pages long. Leave me some love here guys! **

**Thanks for reading ;)**


	18. Divided

**THIS IS AN EXTENDED CHAPTER:**** This chapter has an entire segment cut out of it so it stays in line with the TOS here. The full chapter can be found on AO3, there is a link to it on my profile. It gives a little more insight into two characters and their relationship, but you won't be missing anything too big if you choose not to read it.**

::

"Thank you for looking after the kids, Gemma," Lyla said as she started to fix them both some tea in her small kitchen. "Work had some," she paused and touched a finger to her chin, "After hour's business."

Gemma gave a small, humourless grin. "I know what that's all about, baby."

"I'm so grateful you were able to pick the kids up, bringing them home. You even got them to bed," Lyla sighed and leaned against the counter as she waited for the kettle to come to a boil. "I know what a hassle it can all be."

"Family," Gemma said shaking her head. "Family is never a hassle." Lyla had ties to Opie, short lived ties but it still brought her into the SAMCRO family, especially since she had taken on the burden of raising Opie and Donna's two orphaned children. If nothing else, Gemma respected Lyla for stepping up with the kids, for putting family first.

A faint smile came upon Lyla's face. Her eyes looked out the window, one of Nero's men stood outside, illuminated only by the burning end of his cigarette. She let out a small sigh, Primo had called, told her she'd be heading home with protection from another one of the Byz-Lats. She'd felt unexpectedly disappointed.

The kettle started to whistle and Lyla quickly removed it from the burner. "You know, you really need to tell me how you manage to handle Ellie," Lyla said as she poured the boiling hot liquid into a teapot. "I try with her," she turned, almost a desperate plea for Gemma to understand. "She hates me."

"She's not too fond of me right now, not after the tongue lashing I gave her," Gemma replied shooting a bitter look down the hall. "If she were any older, I'd knock her head into a wall." Gemma saw the frantic look on Lyla's face and scoffed. "I said if she were older. I didn't lay a hand on her. You're too soft, Lyla."

"She's in a rough spot," Lyla replied softly while she brought the teapot over to the table and set it down. "I try not to be hard on her but," Lyla paused and ran her hand through her long wavy hair. "She really tries my patience, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Gemma agreed.

Lyla walked back to the cupboards, opened one and pulled out two mugs. She returned to the table and poured them each a mug full before she sat down. Lyla had never been inner circle at SAMCRO but through first Luanne Delaney and then Opie, she fell under their wings of protection. She certainly didn't have much of a relationship with Gemma, and a touch and go one with Tara. She felt odd asking the older woman for advice, but if Gemma could help it would be worth it.

"She's lost her both of her parents," Lyla's voice came out no more than a whisper. Her heart ached for Opie and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "Those kids lost their parents _bloody_. They need stability, compassion, comfort and I really do try to give them that."

"Of course you do," Gemma said sharply. She shook her head at the desperate tone in Lyla's voice. "Everyone knows that. Do you think I don't see it?"

Big eyes blinked a few times in shock. Lyla ducked her head, her shoulders shrugging slightly. "I don't think anyone sees me." She poured them each a mug and took her seat. "I'm Opie's widow. I'm the caregiver for Kenny and Ellie." She added a bit of milk and sugar to her tea. "That is what people see."

Gemma put a bit of milk into her tea before she took a sip. The young woman had a point. Since Opie's funeral, Lyla had fallen back from SAMCRO. Gemma rarely saw the woman at all, and never at club functions.

"You're still apart of this family, baby," Gemma insisted as her instinct to nurture kicked in. Lyla didn't have the kind of emotional strength, like Tara, that Gemma had to even begrudgingly respect. Instead, Lyla had that 'kicked puppy' look that stirred Gemma's need to protect. Lyla wasn't a threat, Gemma knew she had the power. "If you need help, you know where to find it."

Lyla stirred her tea and stared into it pensively. "I feel like I've failed them by even asking."

"Them?"

"The kids," Lyla responded softly. "Opie too. Even Donna." She took a deep breath and released it. "I just keep thinking that I should know what to do, that Opie and Donna would know what to do. I'm so lost when it comes to Ellie."

"Stay on her," Gemma advised. "She needs a stern guiding hand."

"I don't want to push her," Lyla bit on her lower lip.

"She needs it. If she gets too out of hand, call me or call Jax. She's always liked Jax, maybe because he was always around Opie, but I think that she would listen to him. Has my boy been come around?"

"Not lately."

"He should."

Lyla shrugged not wanting to answer one way or another. Gemma could dig her heels into things and Lyla didn't want Jax's mother to hound him about the situation.

For a few minutes, they silently drank their teas. Gemma took the time to study Lyla, really look at her. Beautiful, innocent looking, her eyes had dark circles under them where makeup had worn away making her look absolutely exhausted. "You should get some rest, honey."

"Oh I'll just-"

"Go to bed," Gemma said, her head tipping forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'll clean up and lock up when I go."

"You don't have-"

Gemma merely raised her hand to cut the other woman off. "Did it sound like a suggestion?"

Lyla smiled and shook her head. "No, I guess not."

"Go."

The young woman got up and walked as far as the threshold to the kitchen before she turned back. "Gemma?" The dark haired woman turned and looked at her. "Thank you."

Gemma nodded and Lyla retreated down the hall.

::

Happy walked out of the clubhouse and lit up the cigarette that dangled between his lips. The night held a bitter chill, and he enjoyed it. He inhaled deeply and held the smoke for a few seconds before letting it out.

Tara, bless her, had come to the clubhouse in the late hours of the night to check on Indiana. He noticed a bit of a change in the doctor, she'd eyed everyone with a wariness she didn't have before she went into the prison. He couldn't blame her, time on the inside could haunt the worst of them. She assured them both that Indiana did not have a concussion and that the bump on the back of her head would go away in about a week or so.

He had been expecting Mac to be around but Bobby had explained to them that a man from Tacoma had called to request his assistance. Both Happy and Indiana were sure it had been Dax who had called. Dax had sponsored Mac and over the years had become close brothers, in times of need they called on each other.

Happy had figured that Mac would keep a close watch on Indiana, that he would take care of her. He'd hoped for it because then he'd have a constant reminder that she belonged to someone else, a patched brother. He knew all too well that she sat inside with that fire engine red dress clinging to her modest curves, her mile long legs bare and tempting. In the fight, her hair had gotten a bit tousled and looked sexy as hell. Her big blue eyes would search for something familiar, they would look for him.

Taking a deep drag off the cigarette he tried to ignore the ache he had for her. He tried to put her from his mind, but couldn't quite manage. Her big blue eyes, the scent of her perfume, the feel of her tongue running against his own. His jeans became uncomfortable and he tossed down the cigarette in self-loathing. He crushed the stick under his boot and ground it into the dirt. 'Depravity craves innocence,' he heard that before and it never felt more fitting.

He needed to stay the hell away from Indiana Quinn. She was an infection, a disease that crippled his thoughts and altered his behaviours. He needed to keep his distance and needed her to do the same. The physical ache of lust shouldn't be so hard to be rid of, he figured. He needed to clear his mind, distract himself away from her. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, a number and a name. He dialled.

::

Indiana sat on one of the barstools inside of the SAMCRO clubhouse. She sipped on water as she tried to sort her thoughts from the night. She had no doubt that Joshua Manning would be in rough shape once Nero and Primo were done with him. She worried over what state they would find Irina in, and they would find her, she had faith in that much. Her mind glazed over the parts of the night when Joshua had touched her, assaulted her. She knew it would all be vivid and clear at some point, but shock still kept her numb to it.

She'd wanted to avoid the clubhouse but Happy had dragged her inside to be looked after. She'd been so nervous about seeing Mac, which she found to be ridiculous. She had been so overwhelmingly grateful to find out that he'd taken a call to Tacoma. She couldn't face him, not yet, not after their fight. She still didn't know what to say. She especially couldn't imagine talking to him about their relationship, about his being with Crow Eaters when in the same day she had kissed and groped Happy, and later assaulted by Joshua Manning. Mac not being there was the respite she currently needed.

A figure sat down to her left and she turned. The man gave her a smile and his dimples nearly were lost by the facial scars. She managed a small smile in return. "Chibs," he informed her while pointing his thumb at himself.

"Indiana," she replied.

"I know," his accent held the words and drawled them out. "You feelin' alright?"

Her hand instinctively went to the back of her head. "Got a bit of a bump," she admitted, "But I'm tougher than I look."

"Figured," he replied. Any child of Rane Quinn had to have some resilience. He flagged down V-Lin who passed off a beer to Tig. Once he had the man's attention he tapped two fingers on the bar in front of him. No need for words, the newly patched man got him a glass and a bottle of Jameson. "Who's got you working?" He asked V-Lin.

V-Lin shifted under the gaze of the Vice President. "Tig."

"Tell him to go fuck himself," Chibs advised and then waved the man off. "Go have a drink, play a round of pool, get your dick wet." V-Lin looked a little uncertain but the Chibs just stared at him until he felt unnerved and walked away. Chibs shook his head and poured himself a couple generous fingers of whiskey. He turned to the young woman. "You want some," he asked gesturing to the bottle.

"No thanks," she replied holding up her glass of water in a small salute.

He took a sip of the alcohol and watched out of the corner of his eyes as Indiana scanned the clubhouse. He'd watched her from across the room for a while and noticed how every five minutes or so she'd give the place another look over. He considered the fact that it could be nerves, but it didn't ring true to him. He added the information to the fact that Happy had lost it when Indiana had been first introduced. Something had happened between them. Indiana's constant checks had started up about the time that Happy had stormed out of the Clubhouse without a word. Chibs didn't want to pry, but as V.P he needed to know if the volatile undercurrent the two had was going to be a problem.

After a cursory glance around the room he decided to go for the shock factor. He turned to face her needing to see her face and gauge her reaction. "So, you and Hap."

She stared at the selection of alcohol on the wall. "What about us?" To her credit, she didn't flinch. She turned to face Chibs and took a small sip of her water.

He couldn't decide if he'd read too much into her and Happy's earlier responses to one another or if she had a wicked poker face. It wouldn't surprise him if she could mask her emotions or navigate being questioned being Rane Quinn's daughter and all.

"You two have a falling out?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He insisted on seeing me as a child," Indiana replied. They had been frosty to one another when she'd first been introduced to the SAMCRO men. She had to give some kind of explanation that explained it and stopped people from looking too closely. "By the time I went to college, it got real old."

"You did get touchy when he called you 'Quinn's kid.'"

"Yeah, well, I have a name," Indiana snapped. "I am more than my father's child."

Being a father himself, he immediately became aware of the hurt under the anger in her voice. Paternal instinct to protect had him backing down from the subject. They fell into a silence and Chibs, not for the first time, considered the consequences to the children of the Sons. Abel had been kidnapped, Kenny and Ellie lost their parents to unspeakable violence, Dawn had been burnt alive. He wondered sometimes how his own daughter handled who her parents were, Fi being affiliated with the IRA, and he being with SAMCRO with an ocean between himself and his family. Now, here sat the daughter of a man he respected and he had no doubt that holding up the last name 'Quinn' couldn't be easy.

Chibs turned and looked at Indiana. She appeared serious, and her shoulders were weighed down by the weight of the day. He nudged her a little and shot her a playful grin. "You must take after your ma," he commented, "'Cause your dad is one ugly fucker."

Indiana burst out laughing and Chibs noticed that some of the guys had turned to look at her. She tried to stop, nearly succeeded before she succumbed to another fit. She wiped tears from her eyes. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Do, and tell him he still owes me fifty bucks," Chibs answered before taking a sip of his whiskey.

"I actually take after my dad," Indiana mused as she stared down at her glass of water. "The height, the hair although I put more effort into mine. I'm told I have my mother's eyes."

"I never met her." In fact, Chibs couldn't recall ever meeting an Old Lady of Quinn's, then again, he hadn't known the man had a child until she showed up at the clubhouse as their asset. He and Quinn got along alright, had similar stances on things but due to distance never became close.

"Me either," she whispered.

He frowned noting he'd trespassed into undesirable territory. "Sorry."

She shrugged. "That's life."

He wanted her laughing again. The sad, lost look on her face reminded him of how Kerrianne had looked when he last left Belfast. He hoped that if his brothers were around his girl when she felt sad that they would cheer her up and so he wanted to do that for Quinn.

"I'm going to tell you a story," he declared, turning on the stool to face her properly.

She looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Happy," Chibs decided since he knew her to be familiar with their former Nomad. She looked wary and he laughed. "It's a good story." Not waiting for her to reply, he launched into it. "This was some time ago. Four or five years now I suspect. Anyway, Tig, Juice, Hap and I are at this bar." He changed the setting slightly, no point in telling the girl they'd been at the Jelly Bean, he never wanted to admit even going there once, it had to be the worst strip club ever. "We get shitfaced," he admitted. Getting hammered is the only way to trick your brain into staying at the Jelly Bean, likely why the drinks there are three dollars cheaper than any other joint. "Real shitfaced," he stressed. "And then these guys come in. We've had trouble with these guys before, and they've got the kind of numbers we can't fight with, especially not with so many other people around."

Indiana took a sip of her water to cool her throat that still ached from screaming and hyperventilating. "So what did you do?"

"Not much, they muscle us out back, and you know Hap, all cold and calculating. He's eyeing these guys and we're all waiting for shit to go down." Chibs tossed back the rest of his Jameson and put the glass back on the bar. "One of the guys start talking. Juice can't stand still for shit, especially when we all know a fight is coming so he's bouncing on his toes and I can tell that Tig and Hap are getting pissed, I'm just waiting for the fists to start flying."

"Well, what happened?" Indiana pressed for more information wondering where the Scotsman was taking the story.

"Projectile vomit."

"Ew," Indiana's nose wrinkled up in disgust but a smile pulled on her lips. She'd hung out with men for way too long not to have what most considered a masculine sense of humour. "Who? Hap?"

"Yeah," Chibs nodded. "All down the guy who was trying to talk to us."

Indiana couldn't hold back an unfeminine snort before the laughter full out escaped. "That's gross!"

Chibs shared in her laugh. He hadn't considered the 'gross' factor. He'd told similar stories of debauchery to his daughter who always cracked up.

The young woman pushed some of her long hair over her shoulder. "So what happened after that?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "We all went home."

"Liar," Indiana hissed accusingly. "What really happened, Chibs?"

He thought about what happened the rest of the night and pieced together a version that would satisfy her and keep SAMCRO secrets out of it. "Well, they took us for a ride. Weren't really happy with us SAMCRO boys and they figured with us four drunken bastards they'd have some kind of leverage." Chibs gave a small shrug before he mulled over what he could tell. "Juice couldn't stop laughing, he'd smoked a fatty before we'd started drinking- completely in the bag. Tig and Hap are both pissed and aggressive so the other guys cuffed 'em to better keep them under control."

"And you?"

"I was their best chance at reaching an agreement with SAMCRO and they knew it. Tiggy might have been Sargent but his temper wouldn't get them anywhere. They let me talk to Clay," Chibs explained. "Well things got strained pretty fast. I had my back to them all, being that I was on the phone but I hear this grunt and a gun go off. I think Tig had shoulder tackled a guy and the gun went off. Tig was on his feet in any case, the gun ended up on the ground. A second guy had his gun trained on Tig. Happy had his arms cuffed behind him but he got them under his ass, sat down and brought his arms under his feet and back to the front, got the gun and… well we didn't have a problem with those guys again if you get what I'm saying."

"Yeah, you brought them a bouquet of flowers and chocolates," she replied with her heart beating quickly in her chest.

He gave her a wiry grin. "Guess that story doesn't have the best of endings."

"I don't know, you guys all kissing and making up is real touching," she managed to say with a straight face.

He laughed, shook his head and then poured himself another glass.

The door to the clubhouse opened and Indiana immediately turned. She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips. Happy walked in, under his arm stood Desiree from Diosa. Light mocha skin, generous curves, dark and mysterious eyes, sensual smile that spoke of long nights of carnal pleasure. Her heart dropped and her stomach felt as though it had been filled with stones.

Happy's eyes met hers briefly, and she found contempt in them. She straightened up and shot him a haughty look. She watched until Happy and Desiree disappeared down the hall. She pushed down the urge to cry. He kissed her, played her in the shadows and yet paraded some Diosa escort around his brothers. No surprise, nothing new. He never had trouble getting a Crow Eater when he wanted one, she remembered clearly him taking women to the back rooms at Sanctuary. He'd taken her to one of those very backrooms, just like one of those common whores and after when he was done with her, regretting her, she felt like one.

She turned to Chibs hoping that her eyes didn't betray how broken she felt. "I think I'll have a shot of that now."

The door opened again, and this time Nero walked in. He looked around until he found Indiana and walked over. "Manning won't be a problem," he said to both the V.P and Indiana. "Irina is okay."

She read between the lines. Manning is dead. Irina is alive. She nodded knowing that Nero wouldn't likely give her more than that while there were so many people around.

"I'll take you back to the house," Nero said.

Indiana nodded. She didn't want to stay in the SAMCRO clubhouse not with Happy in one of the backrooms with Desiree. She knew the events of the day were going to catch up with her, and when they did, she would fall apart. The last thing she wanted was for the mother charter to see her breakdown.

She looked at the shot that Chibs had poured for her but didn't take it. She grabbed his shoulder as she slid off the stool. "Thank you for the company, and the laugh."

He gave her a small smile and a nod.

She followed Nero out of the clubhouse, the cool air caressed her skin and her feet urged her to run. She ignored her flighty tendencies and followed Nero to the big truck.

::

Rain poured down in sheets but Kerrianne didn't mind that in the least. Native to Ireland, she was no stranger to rain. She nearly always had a small umbrella in her purse because one could never know when the sky would decide to lash out. She huddled in her thick grey cardigan as a cool breeze swept by bringing droplets of rain in under the safety of the umbrella. She quickened her pace and expertly avoided puddles.

She had a long night shift that had bled into the early morning hours. Now at nearly seven in the morning, while the rest of Ireland started to wake, she thought about going to sleep.

Kerrianne walked into the loft that she shared with her ma. She closed her umbrella and hung it on a hook to dry. Her ma's head poked out of the kitchen, and a smile flashed upon her face. "Morning, Kerri."

"G'night, Ma," Kerrianne replied with a yawn as she walked by. She didn't even wonder about why her mother might be up so early until she'd made it to her room, and she didn't have any desire to go out and ask.

She loved her room. She'd chosen a nice Tiffany blue for the walls, she had a warm quilt that she'd cherished since childhood on her bed. She'd gotten a small room and had crammed it with the double bed, computer desk, and a long chest of drawers. On her walls, she had a few framed pictures. She walked over and looked at the images and they brought a smile to her face. The first image depicted her three year old self sitting on her father's lap, no scars yet on his face just a smile complete with dimples. Her hand touched the plain black frame. "I miss you, Da," she whispered sadly. She'd kept the picture hidden under her mattress while growing up with Jimmy in the house, afraid that he would even take the very image of her father away from her.

The next picture had been taken on her sixteenth birthday. She was holding her hair back and blowing out the candles on a lovely vanilla cake that her ma had made. Her ma was smiling in the background, it was one of the rare pictures of her mother's smile that she had and she cherished it. Jimmy had been away on business so it had just been the two of them eating cake, doing each other's nails and watching chick flicks.

The third picture made her heart clench. Padraic Telford smiled at something off the camera, his handsome profile immortalized on film. She let out a sigh. Due to Jimmy's interference she hadn't got to spend much time around her cousin, but she remembered his laughter and jokes.

The fourth photo framed on her wall showed her with her parents sitting together on a worn out couch, it had been taken by Juice before they left after rescuing Abel, and he'd send her the photograph a few weeks after the SAMCRO boys had returned to California.

The last one made her smile, it _always _made her smile. Her ma had snapped a picture of her with Trinity and Juice playing cards. Juice was laughing, she was glaring at him and Trinity was about to throw candy at his head. Even caught on film, Juice's smile was contagious.

She had a pile of other pictures that she wanted to get framed but hadn't had the time or inclination. She looked at her bed, so very inviting. She stripped her damp shirt and threw it into her hamper. She pulled from the pockets of her jeans a five pound note, a receipt for Soor Plooms, and her new cellphone. She tossed the money and paper on her desk but kept her phone in hand. Her eyes returned to the last picture and she grinned.

Kerrianne flipped open her phone and dialled the familiar number. She pinned the cellphone between her ear and her shoulder as she unbuttoned her jeans.

_"Hello?"_ The line came with plenty of background noise.

"Hey Juice," Kerrianne replied as she wiggled her hips as she pulled at her jeans. "This is my new number."

_"Kerri."_ She could hear the smile in his voice and it pleased her.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your night." She got the jeans down and kicked them toward the hamper before she bent down to take off her socks.

_"No way! How are you?" _

"Good," Kerrianne replied as she sat down on her bed. As irrational as it might be, she couldn't strip down naked while on the phone with her friend. "You?"

_"Good. I'm working on my bike,"_ he replied. _"It's being a bit of a pain in the ass at the moment, so I welcome the break." _

"You often work on your bike so late?" Kerrianne asked as she walked across her room and shut the dark drapes just in case the sun decided to make an appearance.

_"Couldn't sleep." _

Her hand went and lightly touched over her heart. She worried about her friend sometimes. She had begun to suspect he was an insomniac. She called him frequently and at all times of the day or night and only twice had she ever woken him up.

_"What time is it there?"_ he muttered. _"Got to be morning, five or six?"_

"A little after seven," Kerrianne replied.

_"Shit, I must have been out here longer than I thought." _

She laughed and shook her head. "Tell me you at least had dinner."

_"What are you, my mother?" _

"Someone has to watch out for you, Knucklehead."

_"Knucklehead? Seriously? Is that the best you got?" _

"Shut up, I just worked all night."

_"You need to brush up on your insults, Miss Larkin-Telford." _

"You need to just shut your mouth, Mr. Ortiz." A long moment of silence followed and she realized he was doing exactly what she'd told him to. She let out an annoyed groan. "Juice, knock it off, I'm not paying long distance charges to listen to nothing."

_"So you pay just to talk to me? I'm not even making dirty suggestions." _

Her ears burned and she knew they were red. "Oh my God, Juice!"

_"What, no great rebuttal? You must be tired," _he sounded sympathetic, his voice becoming softer. _"Go to bed, Kerri."_

"I'm not tired."

_"What is it you say when, according to you, I'm acting like a child? Oh, that's right 'dry your arse.' You are so tired and you're denying it like a four year old. Go to bed and get some rest." _

"Oh piss off," she grumbled as she laid back on the bed. She fought the urge to close her eyes. "You should be in bed too."

_"You want me in bed?" _

Her mouth gaped open and she floundered for something to say. He had a great sense of humour and occasionally, like tonight, it had a sexual edge. Part of her enjoyed the teasing, another part felt uncomfortable participating since she had real feelings for him under the jokes. "Don't be an idjit!"

He laughed. _"Sweet dreams, Kerri."_

"Thanks."

_"I'll be in them." _

"Juice!"

_"Sorry," _He laughed and didn't sound sorry at all._ "I couldn't help it." _

"Good night, Juan!"

_"G'night, Kerrianne." _

She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the floor before rolling onto her back. Exhaustion overtook her, and sure enough, she dreamt of him.

**Don't forget, this chapter is extended. Extra scene is at the end of the chapter on AO3. **

**Thanks for reading- no update next weekend. 50/50 shot of there being one on the weekend after.**


	19. Resolve

Tara ate her cereal at the kitchen table. Jax sat across from her with Thomas on his lap playing with a little stuffed monkey. Abel stood at her side and watched her intently. She ran her free hand over his head and shot him a grin. "Did I get some milk on my chin?"

"No," he replied. He tugged slightly on the hem of her shirt, as if to ensure he had her full attention. "You're not going to go away again, right?"

Jax's cool blue eyes met hers from across the table. He gave her a sad little smile and she shot one back in return. She'd been released and the case couldn't be tried again but both knew that the life held no promises. "No," she said softly to reassure her son. "I'm not going anywhere." As much as she wanted it to be true, she couldn't guarantee a damn thing. She'd helped the club and it nearly destroyed her. It appeared that it had killed her career. The Oregon deal had gotten wiped right off the table. All she had now was family: her sons, her husband and her title as an Old Lady.

A knock at the door had the spoon falling from Tara's fingers. Her eyes widened and her heart started to race. She knew that the wave of fear was irrational but couldn't control it.

Jax took notice of his startled wife and anger coursed through him. If she should feel secure anywhere it should be her home, especially when he sat right there. He felt the guilt and the shame that came with the knowledge that he'd played a part in putting her in such a position. He hoisted Thomas up when he stood. "Here, take him," he said passing their child to Tara. "I'll get the door."

Tara held Thomas tightly to her body, his head rested against her shoulder and it only turned her panic up a notch. She couldn't take being separated from them again. As if sensing her unease, Abel stood a little closer and put his hand on her arm but his eyes trailed after his father.

Jax checked to ensure his gun still sat in the back of his jeans. He took a look at his wife and children and found Tara's eyes wide with panic and Abel's fixated with confusion and worry. With his hand on the grip of his gun and his body tensed for a fight, he looked through the peephole. He watched the woman on the other side shift in her stance and push her chestnut coloured hair out of her face. The tension in his body released and he let go of the gun. "It's Lowen," he announced before he pulled open the door and stepped back to let her in. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied as if the word felt improper on her tongue. She stepped in and Jax shut the door behind her. "I'm hoping that you and Tara have a moment."

Jax always figured if his lawyer wanted to talk, it was best to make that time. He nodded. "In the kitchen."

Ally walked into the kitchen ahead of him and gave Tara a reassuring smile. "Hello Tara."

Relieved to see a friendly face, Tara let out a sigh. "Hi Ally." She stood and adjusted Thomas who'd fallen asleep on her shoulder. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine," Ally replied. "Thank you."

Abel looked lost in the kitchen looking up at everyone trying to figure out what was going on. Jax walked over and crouched down before his son. "Abel, can you go play in the living room please? Your mom and I need to talk to Miss Lowen about a few things."

The child pouted. "Will you play with me later?"

Jax's heart broke a little. "I can't, I have to work later." He felt as though the words were worn out. His son just wanted a bit of his time but he had so little to give. "Maybe tonight."

Abel's eyes grew sad but he nodded before he ambled off. Jax ran his hands over his face before he stood back up. "What is this about, Lowen?" He asked cutting right to it. "Did one of the guys get into something that I don't yet know about?"

"No," Ally replied as she sat down at the kitchen table.

Jax sat down alongside his wife and put an arm over her shoulder. "Well, what is it?"

"Jackson." Tara only needed his name and her quiet voice to scold him for being so pushy.

"It's not really any of my business but I'm worried about Lee Toric." Ally sat back in the chair. She worked best with evidence and facts but she had neither. Her lack of information left her in an uncomfortable position. Keeping the Sons safe remained in her best interest, so despite the lack of concrete evidence, she sat before the Teller-Knowles family.

Jax leaned forward a bit. "Has he spoken to you? Threatened you?" Being their lawyer, Ally Lowen fell under the protection of the Sons of Anarchy. She'd done plenty to prove herself capable in the courtroom and that made her a very useful asset. If something happened to Ally there would be retribution.

"No," Ally waved a hand as if to dispel the very thought of such a thing. "It's just that I've been doing some research, pulling a few strings and such."

"Why?" Jax interrupted. "I didn't ask you to."

"You didn't have to ask. Keeping your asses out of prison is my job," Ally replied with ease. She met with her clients under the worst of circumstances, his bristly behaviour had been expected. "Toric is smart. He's a former U.S Marshal. He has a history of brutality. He has friends in law enforcement and he knows how the system works."

"So?" Jax asked feeling impatient.

"So why have Tara brought in?" Ally questioned leaning in as she lowered her voice. "What does he gain? She got held for a few days but the case was dropped. It can't be tried again."

"That's a good thing though," Tara whispered not wanting Abel to overhear.

"It makes no sense," Ally argued before pushing some of her dark hair from her eyes. "Otto isn't going to talk, that's a dead end for him. Bringing you in on circumstantial evidence does little."

"Cut to the chase, Lowen," Jax snapped, reaching the end of his patience. "What are you getting at?"

"Oregon is dead," Ally said looking directly at Tara. "That keeps you in Charming. Toric must know about the RICO case and how it got killed when Otto murdered his sister. For a man like Toric, just getting Otto back isn't going to be enough." Her eyes drifted over to Jax. "I think he wants to take down the club."

Tara shook her head, her short dark locks swung. "I don't understand. Why would he want me out but kept in Charming."

Ally shrugged. "Because you were _there_ in the prison with his sister when she was murdered." Her eyes flicked to Jax and then returned to Tara. "I'm worried about you."

Jax's hand tightened around his wife's arm and he drew her a little closer. "You think Toric wants to hurt Tara?"

"I think he wants revenge," Ally replied simply. "I think he'll want to destroy the club, kill Otto and…" Ally's eyes averted. "This is all speculation, of course."

Jax turned to look at his wife. He'd known Ally for a number of years and he knew that she wouldn't have brought any of this up unless she truly believed that the club and Tara were in danger. He returned his gaze to the lawyer. "Lowen?" Her eyes met his and he gave a small nod of his head. "Thanks."

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "It's my job."

::

Indiana awoke with the mother of all headaches. She groaned and lifted her head from the back of the couch. She hadn't intended on falling asleep there, but exhaustion had pulled her under. She threaded her fingers through her hair and felt the large bump left on the back of her head. Part of her wished she'd spent the night drinking with Chibs, at least then the headache would be self-inflicted.

Still dressed in the bold red dress, she stood and stretched out the best she could. She ached all over, parts she couldn't even remember getting hit in the fight hurt. She sauntered off into the kitchen, thankful that she'd kicked off the heels at least before falling to sleep.

While grabbing a glass of water and pills the events of night before came back to her. The memories returned in fragments and left her feeling weak in the knees. "Don't cry," she whispered to herself as she tipped the pill bottle.

She remembered Joshua's gentle caress as he pushed back some of her hair. "Don't cry," she repeated over and over like a mantra. Her hand shook and the pills spilt all over the counter. "Fuck!" She gave the bottle a little toss and it bounced off the toaster knocking out more pills. Her hands continued shaking until she flattened them on the counter.

_'You've been such a sweet girl.'_ Her arms and legs felt weak. She gave her head a quick shake but could remember stuttering in response. Humiliation warmed her cheeks, even though no one could see her she felt embarrassed by her weakness.

She abandoned the pills and water. Her feet stomped against the hardwood as she rushed to the bathroom. She stripped off the dress and threw it in the trash bin without a thought. The need to shower, to get his hands off of her was so strong that it kept out any rational thought. She hurried in, not waiting for the water to warm. The spray beat down on her body, the cold water making her shiver.

_'Good girl, such a good sweet girl.' _A sob escaped her lips and she grabbed the corner shelf when her knees threatened to buckle. Tears mixed with the spray of the shower and she stood under it turning the heat up until it nearly scalded her. She scrubbed at her skin until it felt raw, turned the heat up until she could hardly stand it. When the heat was all she could think about and the fear relented she turned off the water and reached out to grab one of the towels.

She stepped out of the tub at the same time as she wrapped the towel around her body. Her right foot slid on the floor and while trying to stay upright her hands sought something to grab onto, one found purchase in the shower curtain but it didn't help keep her up. The towel dropped to the floor, half the shower curtain came down and her back slammed into the wall.

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut. A breath hissed out from between her clenched teeth. This time, when the memories bombarded her, they didn't strike her with fear. _"What, you like it rough?"_ His dark eyes haunted her, his fingers digging into her hips.

She sucked in a deep breath and pushed it all down. "Enough is enough," she grabbed her towel and kept her mind busy with numbers. She dried off in an efficient manner. She split her hair into thirds and braided it loosely mindful of the bump on the back of her head. She grabbed the pair of panties that had been on the top of the pile in her drawer, plain and blue and she didn't give a damn. She grabbed a black sports bra and pulled it on too.

Indiana yanked the doors to the closet open. She ran her hand over the row of blazers with a frown. She hated them all. They were confining, and prim and proper and she absolutely hated each and every one of the damn things. A necessary evil. No one would take her seriously if she wore what she liked. She was a mathematician. Currently she worked in a brothel, but even it had a dress code.

She found a pair of worn out brown shorts, a white tank top and a vibrant sheer orange button-up in her drawers and pulled on the familiar and comforting ensemble. She smoothed down the long sleeves and sat down on the bed. Nero had told her when he dropped her off the night before not to come in.

With nothing to do she went for her phone and without really thinking about it, she dialed a familiar number. She put the phone on speaker, letting it sit on the blankets while she laid back. Her arms reached out and she grabbed a pillow and hugged it close.

_"About time," _the gruff voice answered. "_I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me." _

She smiled at the sound of his voice, and suddenly a weight lifted from her shoulders. "Hi Daddy."

_"My Little Anarchist, don't leave it so long next time. Got it?" _

"Got it," she affirmed. "So, how is Sanctuary managing?" She heard him huff out a breath on the other end.

_"Everything's fine."_

"What's really going on?" Indiana persisted knowing her father well enough to know when he kept something back.

_"Nothing Indie. I just think Tink needs a break, of course, she'd never say so." _The fondness in her father's voice when he spoke of Tink made Indiana smile. "_Some guy was hitting on Emily while she was working," _Quinn growled._ "Now he needs dental surgery and he's filing some bullshit report up on Angus."_

Indiana rubbed her temples. "She didn't tell me." She wished she could have been there for her friend, but it was so like Emily to try to help everyone else but insist she could handle everything that came her way on her own.

_"It was a little more than hitting on,"_ Quinn replied angrily. _"And Wilson is on it. Don't worry, nothing will stick to Angus."_

She glanced over at her phone at the mention of the Nomad's lawyer. "I thought he retired."

_"I convinced him it would be in his best interest." _

She shook her head but knew better than to comment. Angus had a rather amicable personality but she knew if anything happened to Emily his temper would get the best of him so the charges didn't come as much of a surprise. She felt for Tink, who now had double the work since her trip to Charming. She knew her father could work the numbers but disliked doing them, and took three times as long as she did. She missed her family. Especially after everything that happened the night before, she desperately wanted to have a couple nights at the family home.

_"You getting anywhere with that job?" _

Indiana bit down on her lower lip as her eyes pricked. "Yeah," she managed to reply. She rubbed her fists over her eyes trying to make the tears go away.

_"What's wrong?" _

"Nothing."

_"Indiana. Don't lie to me." _

"It's just," she ran her hand over her face and let out a sigh. "It's nothing really. I'm just homesick I guess."

_"You've been away from home longer than this before." _

"Yeah, I know."

_"You weren't homesick then." _

She shrugged even though he couldn't see the gesture. "I kinda was, but I was like nineteen and had a point to prove."

_"You can always come home," _her father offered. "_I promise there won't be any fallout." _There would be fallout, Indiana knew, but her father would shield her from it. She didn't even consider it as an option. She'd taken the job and she would see it through. Like when she was nineteen at school in South Dakota, she had a point to prove here in Charming. She wouldn't run away from this problem, she'd figure it out and help the club.

"I'm going to see this through, Dad," Indiana promised and sat up on the bed. She grabbed her phone, took it off speaker and brought it to her ear. Her eyes went to her closet filled with professional attire. "I need to get back to work." The sooner she figured it all out, the sooner she could see her family.

Despite the fact that Nero had told her to take the day off, she quickly got off the phone with her father and changed into a slate grey suit with a cream coloured camisole. She twisted her long hair up into a bun and secured it with an elastic. She'd push herself through the day, get some real work done. Sitting alone in the house wouldn't give her rest, it would plague her with time to think, to remember.

She threw her clutch into her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She slipped her feet into a pair of sensible black flats and locked up when she left. She still felt guilty over what happened to Irina, despite the fact she hadn't been trained for the job she had still played a part in what transpired. She wanted to get specifics on Irina's condition from Nero. Her mind worried over the other woman as she slipped into her car. She tossed her bag onto the passenger's seat.

She pushed the key in and gave it a turn. It made a whirling sound, sputtered and choked. She let up and sat in the silence for a second. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath. As if she didn't have enough to deal with, now her car had decided to… have some kind of problem. She knew car models but knew nothing about their internal workings. "Come on," she whispered. "Don't do this to me." She gave the key another turn and it made a bit of a grinding sound before choking again.

In frustration, Indiana slammed her fist down on the dashboard. "Japanese piece of shit!" she screamed. Her head fell back to the headrest. "And now I sound like my dad," she muttered. "Great." She took a couple of calming breaths and put her hand on the key. "Come on, come on, just get me to work," she plead with the machine before turning the key, it sputtered but caught, the dashboard lit up, music started to play softly and Indiana let out a breath.

The car did get her to work, she felt uneasy about turning off the vehicle but figured at worst she could call a cab back to the house. She grabbed her purse and locked up the Prius as she walked toward the front of Diosa. A pleased looking client led one of the escorts around the corner and Indiana slipped out of the way, hardly even noticed.

She took a deep breath before opening the door, thankfully Happy wasn't there. She smiled and waved to Lyla who was on the phone. Lyla gave a grin and a wave back before continuing to book an appointment. She went back to the hallway of offices and stopped in front of Nero's. She thought about going directly to her office and getting to work so he couldn't tell her to go home. Her concern over Irina got the best of her and she knocked on Nero's office door.

The door opened almost immediately and she stood face to face with a pudgy man in an expensive looking tailored grey suit. He had dark eyes that stared up at her in a way that made her feel unsettled, frown lines were etched deep into his features, and the receding hairline didn't do him any favours. "Who the hell are you?" He asked grumpily.

Before she could open her mouth, the door opened a bit further and she could see Nero standing behind the man. "Mason, this is Indiana. I personally got audited, she's doing my paperwork."

"Hmph." Mason pushed past her and continued down the hall.

"Well, he's friendly," Indiana muttered.

Nero stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind himself. "My other two accountants in my office getting their new work orders and papers. They're all out of sorts because I'm splitting up the work between them. None of them have access to everything anymore." Nero lowered his voice, "another hundred thousand is missing."

Indiana's mouth dropped a little but she recovered quickly. "I'll figure it out," she vowed. "How is Irina?"

Rubbing his temples didn't help Nero's headache. He frowned and looked over at Indiana. "She's doing as well as can be expected. She's hurt all over though. She's at Saint Thomas recuperating." Anger flowed through his words. He felt responsible for what happened to Irina, and was already working to adjust the computer system to ensure something like this never happened again. "Just for her own piece of mind I have one of my guys standing outside her door at all time. Manning can't hurt her," his eyes softened, remembering the fact that Indiana had been injured as well. "Or anyone for that matter, ever again."

The door behind him opened and the second accountant came out. Indiana studied him and decided he fit into the 'bookish' category. Thick rimmed black glasses over his green eyes, neatly clipped black hair, dark grey slacks, white shirt with a blue and beige sweater-vest over it. He didn't look like he should even be out of college yet. "Oh," he said while pushing his glasses up his nose. "Hello."

"Hi," she gave him a smile and extended her hand. "I'm Indiana."

The accountant shifted and hugged his files to his chest. "Jason. Do you know how many germs are passed through hands?" He eyed hers and then shifted again. "I must work."

Indiana dropped her hand and watched Jason hurry down the hallway, never making eye contact with anyone. She turned to look at Nero. "Is he always like that?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Nero replied with a shrug. "But he does what he's told and he's good with numbers."

The door opened once again and the last of the accountants stepped out. He stood just marginally taller than Indiana and had an air of superiority about him. Indiana thought that the dark blue suit that he wore would be moderately priced and easy to acquire. He had a face of sharp angles that gave him an aristocratic look and dazzling grey-blue eyes. He flashed her a smile and extended his hand to her. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Travis Irving."

"Indiana," she replied taking his hand to shake it. She noticed a bulky ring on his finger and smiled. Most of the men in her life wore something like it and she found it oddly comforting. "Class ring?" she questioned, not able to get a good look at it.

"Family," Travis replied. He held up his folder. "I should get to work before my boss sees me talking to this pretty lady."

She smiled and nodded. "It was nice to meet you Travis."

"Likewise, Indiana."

She waited until he was out of earshot before she turned to Nero. "And you think one of those guys…" she trailed off looking around for anyone else who might be listening.

Nero used his keycard to gain entry back into his office and motioned for Indiana to follow. The door shut behind them. "I can't see any of them taking the money, that's the problem. Mason is looking at retirement. Jason is too neurotic about things being in their proper place to steal something. Travis is a hard worker with dozens of recommendations who gave him glowing reviews and he's proven himself to me since he's been here. I keep all three of them so well paid I can't understand any of them risking it. Whoever is doing this has to have a motivation."

"The kind of money that has been taken would be considered by most to be incredibly motivating," Indiana argued.

"But if you already snowed two powerful groups for that kind of money, wouldn't you leave the country and be sipping expensive drinks on the beach by now?"

Indiana's lips pressed into a thin line as she puzzled it over. In the paperwork she'd received from Jax had come with bank statements from all three of Nero's accountants. She knew from those that none of those three men had made any substantial deposits. That didn't guarantee that they didn't have other accounts, or put the money into the account of someone they trusted. Staying though, that didn't make sense. If they had a large sum of money, staying would eventually lead to either bankruptcy of the company or getting caught. At this point, why risk it?

"I don't know," Indiana admitted. "But I'm going to find that money."

Nero nodded. "I assume you're headed to your office?"

"I need to work," she insisted. Nero stared at her and she felt vulnerable. "Please, I know you think sending me home to rest is what is best, but what I need is to get back into this."

He stared for a second longer, assessing the situation before he nodded. "I'd like to argue, but I'm not in a place to do so. I'm already using my own money to keep this business afloat. Whoever is doing this is draining money faster than the girls bring it in. I can keep Diosa running for a while, but…" he trailed off.

Indiana nodded in understanding. "I'm going to get this sorted."

Nero nodded. "I sure hope so."

::

Indiana desperately tried to focus on the numbers but her office now held the memory of Happy kissing her senseless. Thinking about the kiss made her stomach feel knotted. She'd kissed him back, but she shouldn't have, she was Mac's Old Lady. She had ended up in the middle of something that could hurt both men. If any of the Sons found out what Happy had done, it wouldn't go over well, no matter how respected he was within the club.

She dropped her pen and ran both hands over her hair. She pulled out the elastic and let her hair fall down. While thinking about what would happen to Happy she nearly forgot what could happen to her if the club found out. She would be shunned by other club members and it wouldn't matter whose daughter she was. She found herself on the verge of tears. Her family was the club.

She wouldn't leave Mac. She loved him and needed the stability he provided. She sure as hell wouldn't go to Happy and expect any form of permanence. He never got past seeing her as Quinn's kid, never would. What happened within the confines of the office had been a mistake, just like what happened in the dorm room at Sanctuary.

Severing ties completely with Happy would be impossible since Mac had patched Redwood but she could avoid him like the plague. She didn't even think it would be hard. He'd made quite the statement by parading Desiree through the Charming clubhouse. He probably didn't ever give the kiss a second thought, she'd been easy and there and breathing and that seemed to be enough for Happy. Between sweet-butts and the escorts she was sure he could find someone else to keep him entertained.

She promised herself she could shove down the past with Happy and forget about it. She'd be a good Old Lady to Mac and all of their places within the club would be preserved.

Sitting back in her chair she found that her resolve didn't make her feel any better. It didn't feel like the end of something. She'd felt for most of her life as though she had gotten stuck in a place between who she was and who she was expected to be. She looked back down at the numbers, and pulled her chair in a bit. She let the comfort of the equations take over and managed to put her thoughts and feelings on the back burner.

::

**This chapter was originally so goddamned long that I forgot what happened at the beginning of it. I took a good look and I think that it's better as two separate chapters. So, good news, next chapter is done. Which is really good news because I have no fucking time to write. A month tomorrow I'm getting married so don't expect a damn thing from me until like the end of October! Get this story on your alerts list, and bam, problem solved.**


	20. Good Company

Her head throbbed, the lights in the parking lot caused her to wince and keep her head tucked down. Indiana had to admit that working all through the day after having her head smashed against the floor did not qualify as one of her more brilliant ideas. With an impending migraine and the strong desire to sleep for a week, she made her way back to her car only to remember the trouble it had given her in the morning.

"Please," she begged her car as she ran her hand along the hood. "Don't fuck with me tonight." She opened the door tossed in her handbag and plopped down on the seat. She shut her eyes and rested her head against the seat for just a moment. She could hear cars racing by on the highway. People were talking nearby, one voice male and the other female. The wind rustled the leave and she felt like crying.

She shoved her keys in and turned it. The car made a pitiful attempt at starting before she released the key and it silenced. "Look Car. I get it, you're in a rough place right now," she muttered, fully realizing how fucking nuts she had to sound. "I am too, okay. I just want to get home, and tomorrow I'll take care of you, but tonight just hold up your end of the bargain okay? Just get me home." She turned the key, the car made a pitched noise that had her releasing the key and covering her ears. The pain in her head made her feel sick to her stomach. "I swear, I'm going to let Dad take you to the junk yard and make you into a goddamn cube of scrap!"

"Your car isn't running."

Indiana nearly jumped out of her skin. She opened her eyes and sighed. "Jason. Hi." Her mind functioned a little slow with the headache and she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, car is being a shit."

Jason shifted slightly and muttered to himself for a second. "Where do you live?"

She looked up at him and then looked around but whoever had been talking was gone. After everything that had transpired with Joshua Manning, she didn't have any intention of putting herself into a potentially dangerous situation. She knew better than to just give out her address or take a ride from a stranger. The impending migraine did make a good case for such recklessness but she could hear her father in the back of her head and that kept her focussed.

"On the south side," she said vaguely. "Or east, maybe, I've never been very good with directions." She lived on the north side of Charming and she damn well knew it. "I appreciate your concern, Jason, but I'm okay. A friend is already coming to give me a lift."

He nodded and she hid a grin when he appeared relieved. "Okay." He turned and walked the short distance to his own car and then he was gone.

Part of her wished she'd gone with him. She didn't feel in danger around him but knew better than to judge a book by its cover. She reached into her handbag and pulled out her phone. It wouldn't be out of the question to call Teller Morrow for a tow.

::

Ally adjusted the big brown paper bag of groceries on her hip as she fumbled with the keys to her house. Her day had been busy, following her visit to Jax and Tara she'd continued making inquiries about Lee Toric. She hadn't gotten anything she didn't already know. The man had pull and a few people she'd talked to had become unresponsive at the mention of him. That spoke of the kind of power that made people afraid. She'd picked up some groceries on the foolish impulse to make dinner that she already regretted. She put her keys on the ledge then closed and locked the door and walked into her dirty kitchen.

She blew out a breath. "Well, it has to be done sometime," she muttered to herself. She first went through her fridge and got rid of anything that had expired before she restocked it. She cursed herself for letting the pile of dishes get so high before she started to tackle the mess. She had suds up to her elbows and was halfway done when the doorbell chimed.

Ally felt partially annoyed by having company, she enjoyed her alone time. At the same time, she felt a little grateful for a reason to stop washing dishes. She quickly rinsed the suds off and dried her hands.

As she walked down the hall, her mind continued working. She knew a judge that might have information on Toric. A long shot, sure but she could squeeze in lunch and at least Judge Diane Loretto was good company. While thinking about calling Diane's office she opened the door and found herself face to face with Lee Toric. She backed up instinctively as he stepped toward her and she immediately became irate with her own response. Now he stood in her home, violating her space. When he shut the door behind himself it made her feel trapped and vulnerable in her own home.

Angry at the feelings of weakness he brought up in her she went on the offensive with a mask of bravado. "You can't be here!" She yelled at him. "Get out!"

He stood over her appearing calm and unfazed. "You need to stop looking into me," he ordered calmly but she couldn't deny the order in his voice. "Or I will make your life a living hell."

Threatened in her own home, Ally became absolutely livid. "You think you can just order me around? You can go straight to hell!" She thought about threatening to call the cops but knew that wouldn't go over well with a man like him. "Get out of my house!" She gave him a two handed shove but he caught her wrists when she made contact.

He pulled her in, only to turn and shove her into the wall, pinning her wrists there. Fear turned her entire body cold but her eyes glared up at him defiantly.

"You're a very smart woman, Miss Lowen. It would be such a shame if something were to happen to you." She wished that she had some space, maybe then she could hide the fact that the words had her physically shaking. He smiled down upon her. "I wouldn't enjoy hurting you but if you insist on standing in my way, I will do what needs to be done. Do you understand?"

She nodded meekly, not wanting to show any of her anger to him. He could finish her off right now and until someone needed her for something no one would be any the wiser.

He smiled and took a step back. "I hope we don't have to meet again, Miss Lowen. Have a nice evening," he said before he shut the door behind himself.

She stared at the door until she heard a vehicle start up, another minute passed before her knees buckled and she slid down the wall. She wouldn't allow her fear to get the best of her, and if Toric thought she'd become some submissive 'yes' woman after one little threat he had another thing coming. She forced herself to her feet, her hand stayed on the wall for stability as she made her way back to the kitchen. She dumped her purse and found her phone.

She had a list of people she needed to immediately contact. Diane could wait, but now more than ever Ally wanted to see if her friend knew anything. Jax would need to be informed that Toric had gone and actively threatened her. If Toric would blatantly threaten her for simply looking into him, then she worried greatly over what he would do to Tara. Besides if she was going to keep digging into Toric for the club, she was damn well going to get paid from now on. With her phone in her hand, she scrolled through her contacts. For right now, there was one person she needed to hear from.

With the phone to her ear, she waited as it rang. She let out a breath when she heard the line connect.

_"Hello, Ally. What do I owe the pleasure?" _

"Tom, could you come over?" She pushed her hand through her hair. As much as she wanted to be able to talk, she also wanted the physical presence and the feeling of safety another person would bring. "I'm working on something for a mutual client of ours."

_"Yeah, sure. I can be there within the hour." _

"Thanks, Tom."

She hung up and rubbed her temples. Tom Rosen had gotten her involved with the Sons of Anarchy, if anyone could provide advice it was him.

::

The beige and brown tow truck pulled up and Indiana felt impending panic. If either Mac of Happy were inside, she might just have been better off with Jason. Instead two bickering guys jumped out but the relief was short-lived given how loud they were.

"-To a fucking Doberman!" A door slamming on the driver's side punctuated the words.

"Would you cool it? Try and act professional?" Juice argued back while jumping out of the passenger's side. "Hey," he nodded his head in her direction.

"You wouldn't be cool if you had teeth marks scaring your ass!" Tig argued as he rounded the hood of the truck. She hadn't held a conversation with either man but knew them well enough from their time spent working security at Diosa. Frankly, knowing there were scars on Tig's ass was too much information.

Juice grimaced. "Long story," he muttered apologetically to Indiana. "You called for a tow, right?"

"Yeah, that was me," Indiana stood and shut the door as quietly as possible. "I was hoping I could get a ride too."

"Yeah, sure," Juice agreed with a nod.

It didn't take the two long to hook the car up and she got squished between the two men in the cab of the truck. She rubbed her temples. Juice reached past her to turn off the radio.

"Hey, I was listening to that," Tig barked.

Indiana winced and Juice flipped him off. "She's got a headache, man."

Tig took his eyes off the road for a second to look at her and a brief look of sympathy crossed his face before he returned his gaze to the road. She shot Juice an appreciative smile and he returned with a nod.

She quietly directed Tig to the little home she was staying in. "How long do you think it will take to fix my car?" Indiana asked as Tig pulled the truck to the side of the road.

"Can't say until we take a look at it," Tig replied with a small shrug. "Could be a day or so if we got the parts. If we have to order anything it could take a week or more."

Indiana rubbed her temples. "Any idea how much it will cost?"

"Again, not until we know what's wrong with it," Tig answered. "Besides, it'll be on the house for all the shit you're doing for the club."

Her fair eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she wouldn't argue. "Alright, thanks."

Juice got out and extended his hand. She took it, out of ingrained politeness rather than needing any assistance. She had the kind of height that made the step out of the cab not much of a drop at all. "Thanks, Juice."

"No problem," he replied with a good natured grin. "Gemma will likely be the one to call you when we figure anything out about your car."

She nodded, she'd heard the name around Diosa. She was pretty sure Gemma was Jax's mom, and Nero's girlfriend. "Alright, well, thanks guys," she gave them a wave over her shoulder as she walked toward the little home with the intention of taking a few painkillers and going to bed.

::

The door down the hall slammed before Lyla could even make it to the front door. She blew out a breath and ushered Kenny and Piper into the house. Primo had chosen to stay outside for a while, and she honestly couldn't blame him from wanting to stay out of the madhouse.

"I'm making pizza tonight," Lyla announced. "Is that okay with you boys?"

"Yeah!" Kenny cheered. Piper nodded.

Lyla looked down the hall and sighed. "I'm going to put the pizza in the oven, and then I have to have a little chat with Ellie. Can you two behave yourselves for the next little while?"

"Is Ellie in trouble?" Kenny asked, his gaze going down the hall to where his sister had slammed the door behind herself.

"Yes," Lyla answered, pushing some of her long blonde hair out of her face. "Ellie misbehaved and broke a couple of school rules today."

"I can talk to her," Kenny said looking up at Lyla with a serious expression upon his face.

She smiled down upon the child who reminded her so much of Opie that sometimes it really hurt. "I'll talk to her first Kenny, but maybe she'd like a sympathetic ear afterwards."

Kenny wasn't sure what 'sympathetic' meant but he nodded anyways. He turned to the little blond boy nodded his head. "Come on, Piper. Let's play." Piper tailed after Kenny silently and Lyla let out a sigh of relief. At least she didn't have to worry about the boys.

Lyla took out two frozen pizzas and put them in the oven. She felt apprehensive about talking to Ellie, but knew it needed to be done. She walked to the end of the hall, knocked twice but didn't hear a response. She opened the door anyway and found Ellie sitting with her legs crossed on the bed with headphones on.

Ellie's eyes met Lyla's and she rolled her eye while she pulled off her headphones. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk," Lyla replied as she shut the door. Walking over to the bed, she noticed that the room was completely clean. Dirty laundry in the hamper. Pens all in a jar on the desk by the window. She sat down on the nicely made bed. A picture of Opie and Donna sat on the bedside table and it felt like a knife to the heart. She turned her eyes on Ellie. "I'm glad you keep your room clean."

Appearing confused, Ellie tilted her head slightly. "You came here to tell me I keep my room clean?"

Lyla shook her head. "No, but I'm glad that you do." She could understand it too. Why when everything else was beyond the teenager's control, this space was hers, and she needed it to be organized. Lyla figured it brought Ellie some sense of stability and security. "We need to talk about what happened at school today."

Ellie huffed out a breath. "Look, let's just skip to the part where I promise not to do it again, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Lyla remained firm. "You brought extra clothes to school. You can't go around dressed in a skirt that hardly covers your ass or a shirt that shows half of your breasts. Jesus, Ellie you need to have some self-respect!"

Ellie's head tipped back as she laughed heartily. The teenager calmed down but a smirk remained on her face, but her eyes held no humour when she looked at Lyla. "_You_ of all people are going to say that to me with a straight face? Do you really think I didn't hear from boys at school what you used to do? Do you think I don't know what Cara Cara was?"

Taking a deep breath, Lyla fought to remain in control of the conversation. "Do you think that this was my goal in life, Ellie? Do you think that I wanted this life for myself? I didn't. I had plans. I had dreams," Lyla's voice remained low and she felt a little surprised by the way Ellie's eyes widened. The teenager remained quiet and actually listened to her. "Reality is a hard thing to live with. You know this better than most people your age, hell, you know it better than some twice your age. I want more for you, Ellie. I work my ass off to keep a roof over our heads and dinner on our plates. This isn't the life I had in mind, but it's the one I have."

Ellie remained silent for a moment, her eyes locked onto Lyla. "Do you regret it?"

"Cara Cara? No. I don't," Lyla replied honestly. "Luanne saved me from potentially ending up in a much worse situation. It all worked out for the best for me."

"No, I'm not asking about Cara Cara," Ellie replied quietly, her eyes averted to the bedspread. "Lyla, do you regret marrying my dad? If you hadn't, you wouldn't be stuck with me and Kenny. Your life would be-"

"Empty," Lyla interrupted. Ellie's head shot up at the answer. "My life would be empty."

Ellie shook her head. "It would be easier. You would have more money for you and Piper."

Lyla moved close enough to wrap her arms around the girl, and surprisingly, Ellie let her. "Ellie, this is where my life led me. I loved your father dearly. I do not regret marrying him. I don't regret signing those guardianship papers and taking you and Kenny in. I love you both so much. You're my family now, Ellie. I love you."

She felt the warm tears on her neck before the sob shook the teenage girl's body. Ellie's arms wrapped around Lyla's waist and held her tight. Lyla winced, her back still bruised from when Vann attacked her.

"I miss them so much," Ellie whispered as she pulled back and rubbed tears from her eyes.

"I know you do," Lyla responded gently. "And I know this is all very hard on you and Kenny, but we have to work together. I can't be getting called into the principal's office when you're dressing inappropriately. And if your behaviours keep up they're going to call Child Services."

Ellie sat up a little straighter. "Would they take me away?" Her voice suddenly small and it reminded Lyla of just how young the girl was. Thirteen was hardly old enough to deal with the kinds of things she'd been through.

"If they think I'm being a bad mother they will. If you keep acting up, that's what they're going to think, that I can't handle this."

The teenage girl nodded and remained quiet for a moment. "All my friends did it. Got dressed up. We just," Ellie shrugged and seemed a bit embarrassed. "I guess we just wanted attention."

"Get attention for the right things," Lyla advised. "And wait a few years! You're going to give me grey hairs! Boys in their teenage years suck anyways, trust me. Wait until you're at least eighteen to even think about dating and wait for a good guy. If you need an example, wait for someone strong and kind and who will treat you like a queen."

Ellie grinned a little as she thought of the happy days with her parents, the vague memories before her father went to prison. She could remember music and her mother dancing around in the kitchen trying to tease her father into joining in, and because he loved her, he always would. "Like Dad?"

Lyla smiled as she remembered Opie fondly. "Yeah, like your dad."

The door suddenly opened and Piper stood there biting his bottom lip.

"What is it?" Lyla asked her son. He walked over and looked nervously at Ellie before muttering something softly. "I can't hear you, Piper."

"Smells like burning," he muttered again.

"Crap!"

Ellie laughed as Lyla shot out of the room. She looked down at Piper who froze on the spot. She felt a pang of guilt over how she'd treated the young boy since coming to live with Lyla. "Come on kid," she said sliding off the bed. "Let's go see if dinner is as burnt as it smells." Like she had watched Lyla do many times before, she ran her hand over Piper's fine hair and wished her hair felt so silky. He gave her a shy little smile and followed her from the room.

::

The pizza was burnt but edible. After the kids had eaten they went off to watch a movie, Lyla called Primo inside, directed him to the table and gave him a couple slices of salvaged pizza. "Sorry it's burnt," she apologized as she leaned her hip against the table.

Primo shrugged and washed the bite down with a swig of cola. "It isn't terrible."

She laughed. "'Not terrible' isn't a compliment."

He grinned a little as he looked up at her. "It's the best I can do here."

"Yeah, it is pretty bad," Lyla had to agree.

A barrage of gunfire caused glass to shatter and wood to splinter. Screams filled the house.

Lyla's heart immediately went into overdrive and her maternal instinct kicked in. She ran from the kitchen toward the living room. The sound of gunfire seemed deafening. Ellie stood in horror, the two boys were sitting on the floor. Lyla grabbed Ellie by the arm and dragged her down to the ground and put her arms around the three children, putting her body between them and where the gunfire seemed to come from.

As quick as it had begun, it ended. Tires squealed and then silence blanketed the home once again. Suddenly, Piper cried out and tears ran down his face. Lyla released the children and checked him over quickly for injury, but found he was just traumatised by the events, not actually harmed. "Are you both okay?" she asked looking to Kenny and then Ellie.

Kenny seemed to be in shock, but he slowly nodded. Ellie swallowed hard. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," she answered.

Lyla turned around to watch Primo walk back into the house. She hadn't even known he left. "Got a few shots in," he informed Lyla with blatant disregard for the fact that the children didn't need to hear it. "Car didn't have a plate. Likely stolen. Didn't get a look at who was shooting either." He frowned and tucked his gun back into the back of his jeans. "Everyone okay?" He asked, almost as an afterthought.

Primo stared down at Lyla who nodded and returned her attention to her three charges. She checked them over once more, as if she needed to assure herself that they were all really in one piece. She'd reacted faster than he had, and it bothered him. Before he'd even gotten out of his seat, she'd gotten out of the room. It hadn't escaped him that she'd put herself directly into harm's way, putting herself between the bombardment of bullets and the children. His job was to protect her, and he felt as though he'd failed tonight.

"We're all okay," Lyla said finally. She pulled her son against her and whispered to him. The blond boy sobbed and clung to his mother.

Primo stared at Lyla for a moment before turning to look at the bullet holes left in the door. He followed the lines and looked at the wall past the children and Lyla. It had been close. Too close. "This was Kane," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. "It had to be."

"Not now," Lyla hissed at him. Her cerulean eyes glared at him accusingly and then she made a motion with her hand. It took Primo a moment to realize she was gesturing to the three children. He put his hands up in surrender and dropped the topic.

Ellie moved suddenly out of her stupor and hugged her brother tightly. She looked worriedly over at Lyla and Piper before she turned her attention back to her little brother. "It's going to be okay," she whispered to him.

"I know," Kenny replied evenly, as though he hadn't just nearly been shot. Primo had to respect the kid who showed stones like that already. Kenny looked to the wall behind them, at the bullets that littered the wall. "I think Mom and Dad were watching out for us."

The room became very quiet and the little makeshift family all looked at the wall. Primo didn't hold much stock in the supernatural but call it whatever, they'd all been insanely lucky. He walked back toward the kitchen leaving the unit alone for a moment. The dining table had shards of glass from the large bay window all over it. The glass also crunched under his boots. He and Lyla could have very well been at least injured, at worst killed. He shook his head and pulled out his phone, quickly dialling.

_"Primo?" _

"Cuz, someone just shot up Lyla's place," he informed Nero. "No injuries." _Miraculously_. Primo blew out an angry breath. "I need some place safe to take them."

_"You alright?" _

"Fine." Primo replied. Upon hearing movement he walked toward the kitchen entrance where he had a sightline to the living room. Lyla was back on her feet, her son practically attached to her leg. The other two seemed equally shaken. "Pissed," he tacked on when he realized just how angry the attack had made him.

Children should never become collateral, and all three of them could have been. Primo gripped the doorframe and tried to keep a leash on his seething anger.

_"I'll figure something out and get back to you in ten." _

Primo hung up his phone and turned to see Lyla with Piper in her arms. "Should I call the police?" she asked him.

Even considering her less than stellar neighbourhood, surely someone would be reporting the gunfire. "You better, it was a random attack," he said pointedly, his eyes narrowing at her trying not to further upset her by talking about in depth around the children.

"Ignorance is bliss," she whispered. She knew how to get through police questioning and understood that he didn't want to admit that she knew damn well who was behind the shooting. Her eyes skimmed over him and her hand touched his chest. "I'm glad you're okay," she said before she turned in search of a phone.

He stared after her and wondered what the hell it was about that particularly beautiful train-wreck of a woman that kept his attention.

::

The knock on the door made her jump. Annoyed by her own response, Ally went to the door and peeked through the blinds. She let out a breath of relief before she opened the door. "Tom." She felt a flush of embarrassment when his name came out more like a sigh of relief.

He gave her an inquiring look as he stepped in and shut the door behind himself. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," she answered quickly out of habit. She groaned and shook her head. "No. No it isn't."

Her hand raised to touch the chunk of quartz at the center of her necklace, fiddling with such charms had been a nervous habit she thought she'd broken herself of. Her fingertips barely skimmed it before Rosen lightly grabbed her hand and pulled it closer for inspection. He stared curiously at her wrist and she followed his gaze to find that Toric had left little bruises that just slightly darkened her skin.

His thumb lightly ran over one of the bruises and she found herself holding her breath. "Jesus," he muttered. He shook his head and released her. His hand went to her lower back and he led her back to her kitchen, having been there enough times to be comfortable with the layout. "Who the hell have the Sons pissed off now?" He asked as he opened the door to her freezer and pulled out a bottle of vodka and started to search her fridge for olives.

"Lee Toric," Ally responded, sounding miserable even to her own ears. "Have you-"

"Yes, I've heard of him," Rosen replied, having cut her off. "He's bad news. He was the law and now he thinks he's above it. I still do read all the reports you give me, you know," he reminded condescendingly. "I still am one of the Sons lawyers."

"Yeah," she agreed with her eyes narrowed at his arrogant tone. "And you've been doubling your work by helping out the Lin Triad."

Rosen shrugged as he started to prepare dirty martinis. "Henry is a good client."

"Working both angles is going to get you in trouble one day," Ally argued while she leaned her hip against the counter.

He shook the cocktail shaker. "Both Jax and Henry know I work for both. They're on good terms with one another."

"Until they're not," Ally persisted walking past him to retrieve two martini glasses.

"Let me worry about it," he said, effectively shutting down that conversation. She put the glasses on the counter and put a couple of olives in them. He poured the drink over top and set the shaker aside. "So, back to Lee Toric." His eyes skimmed down to her wrists and he pointed. "Is he the one who gave you those?"

Ally took a sip of her martini, wishing the liquid courage worked a little faster. "Yes. He came here today. He told me to stop looking into him."

Rosen didn't like the fact that the man had come to her home. "Did he threaten you?" Rosen asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at her. Frankly, he thought of the man coming to Ally's home as threat enough.

She thought about denying it because Rosen would want to take it to court. They were lawyers, they battled with words, intelligence, and evidence. Guns and fists just weren't their style. She'd have to tell Jax, and then the Sons would know, and eventually it would get to Rosen who wouldn't appreciate the lie. "Yes," she mumbled before taking another sip of the martini.

"We need to get you a restraining order," Rosen said, mostly to himself before taking the first sip of his martini.

"No," Ally shook her head. "He has too many connections. Besides, it will put me in a conflict of interest in the event that he goes against any of the Sons in court."

"Then I'll take care of it," his eyes trailed to the bottle of Vodka. Upon the realization that it would be a long night he added a bit more alcohol to his drink. "Ally, there is no excuse for allowing yourself to be put in danger!"

"I can handle it," Ally argued as she walked toward the living room, forcing Rosen to follow.

Rosen ran his hand over his face and prayed for patience. Ally had a stubborn streak a mile wide, it made her a great lawyer, but also made it damn near impossible to talk any sense into her. He trailed after her and took a seat on the plush leather chair closest to where she'd curled up in the corner of the sofa. "Ally, you need to think about this logically."

"Don't you think that is what I'm doing?" She blew out an annoyed breath before she took a gulp of the martini. "Even if I got a restraining order, and that is a big if, he could walk right through it." She turned her eyes on him and found that she'd relaxed since his arrival. He'd always done that, right from when they met. He brought her confidence, and oddly tonight even after all that had transpired it also came with a sense of peace. "We don't play in the little league, Tom. We play with the big kids, and they have bigger and more powerful enemies."

Realizing that talking sense into her wasn't going to happen, Rosen sat back in the seat and took a moment to enjoy the martini. "Have you informed Jackson?"

"Not yet. Figured I'd wait until morning," she replied as she fussed with the hem of her black pencil skirt.

They drank the rest of their martinis in comfortable silence. Ally stared into the glass at the olives at the bottom. Rosen watched her closely. He knew her long enough to see the cracks in her tough 'I've-got-this-handled' mask. He didn't like the sad look in her eyes. More, he wasn't fond of the worry her look instilled in him. "Request protection," Rosen advised.

Ally's head lifted and she stared at him. "Yeah, yeah," she replied. While she prided herself in her ability to fend for herself, she wasn't stupid. She plucked out one of the olives and tossed it in her mouth. "I will."

Rosen gave a nod. "I'll stay until then."

Ally nearly choked on the olive. "No," stared at him, alarmed. "Thanks, but I'm fine, there is no need. He won't be coming back tonight in any case." Rosen just watched her. Despite how stubborn she could be, he could play the game just as well. Her lips pressed tightly together. "You're not leaving no matter what I say, are you?" she muttered, her eyes narrowed at him.

He gave her a small smile. "Not a chance."

::

**Thanks for reading :D**


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